


DRAGON PASSION

by Titania58



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Harry Potter: Hogwarts Mystery (Video Game)
Genre: 69 (Sex Position), Action/Adventure, Angst, Blood and Injury, Canon Compliant, Choices, Dragons, Drama, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff and Humor, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Gen, Humor, Love Confessions, Love put to the test, Mentors, Mistakes, Multi, Near Death Experiences, Oral Sex, Porn with Feelings, Romance, Romanian Dragon Sanctuary (Harry Potter), Slice of Life, Smut, Sorrows, Wall Sex, doubts, joy, struggles, successes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-12
Updated: 2021-03-01
Packaged: 2021-03-16 05:42:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 45,717
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28701627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Titania58/pseuds/Titania58
Summary: For as long as he could remember, Charlie had always felt a magnetic attraction for dragons. This passion drove him to leave everything to become a dragonologist in Romania.Once he joined the Reserve,  Charlie still had to keep a promise: to invite Anthea, a school friend, to come to his home on holiday to show her his new surroundings... And the man he has become.Discover the life of the most mysterious of the Weasley.This fiction can be enjoyed without necessarily having played the HPHogwartsMystery game.
Relationships: Charlie Weasley/Original Character(s), Charlie Weasley/Original Female Character(s), Player Character (Hogwarts Mystery) & Charlie Weasley, Player Character (Hogwarts Mystery)/Charlie Weasley, other surprise relationships
Comments: 8
Kudos: 26





	1. Charlie’s Promise

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [Dragon Passion (Fr)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27045346) by [Titania58](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Titania58/pseuds/Titania58). 



> Hello,  
> This fiction will relate the life of Charlie Weasley from January 1992 to...  
> The first chapters focus on developing his romantic relationship before becoming more complex. So, in addition to romance which is the main genre of this fiction, you will find other genres such as action/adventure, intrigue, angst, humor, a slice of life etc.  
>    
> Thanks to JK Rowling and Jam City for letting me play with their characters and their universe to offer you this reading for free.  
>  **  
>  _Finally, unlike the abuse of chocolate, the abuse of kudos and comments are excellent for the health of the author and make her more productive! Thanks😁_  
> **  
>  Enjoy!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **January 1992 :**  
>  Charlie receives a visit from his friend, Anthea, for a week's holiday.

Xxxx❤xxx❤xxx❤xxxX

Leaning against the wall of the modest building used to house the Dragon Reserve, Charlie was leafing through a newspaper, next to his broom. The wizard had finished his studies at Hogwarts and had been doing his dream job every day for seven months. He was training at the reserve to become a dragonologist. His dream took him geographically away from his family but his parents, Bill and Ginny, had joined him for Christmas, which made him very happy. And in mid-January, he was visited by Anthéa Dreki, one of his closest friends. At last! 

After an adventure involving the dragon scale on his buffet, Charlie had promised his friend that she would be his first guest if he could get the job of his dreams in Romania. True to his word, he had sent her an invitation less than a month after his arrival, but the busy schedule of the spell-breaker had left her no opportunity so far. 

They had exchanged regular correspondence made up of banalities to maintain contact, without burdening the other with concerns. However, Bill regularly sent him more personal news about Anthea. But Charlie admitted without difficulty that he missed her very much. So did his family, Tonks, and the Quidditch team at Gryffindor. 

Feeling the weight of a glance on him, he raised his eyes from his newspaper and his face lit up. Anthea was standing there in front of him, holding her broom vertically, her face reddened with cold, sketching a gentle smile that reached up to her hazel eyes. He had heard from Bill that she had had many adventures, some dark enough to harden her features for a long time, but the red-headed man was delighted to see that she had remained as he remembered her! 

" Hello."  
" Hello Anthea!”

The witch breathed deeply in the warm embrace that enveloped her. For as long as she could remember, Charlie had always smelled of spring: chords of fat grass and honeysuckle, now mixed with a slightly smoky aroma. 

"It's so good to have you back, Charlie."

She moved off.

"I hope I haven't kept you waiting too long. I didn't know that the magic teleportation ban zone extended so far around the reserve." she said.

"It's quite recent! Extra protection against poachers trying to enter the reserve for smuggling purposes... Since the reception, here, we have a network of chimneys strictly internal to the reserve but I thought a broomstick overflight would be nicer for you !"

"Rather say that it gives you a good opportunity to fly !"

"That’s right !” he admitted with a smile. 

He jumped on his broom and drove to his home. Flying over the reserve, the witch admired the mountains stretching as far as the eye could see. Snow-covered peaks, areas where the rock was carved out of the fir forest, the lakes nestling in the bottom of the valleys. A stream of flames sometimes burst out of the ground, betraying the presence of the dreaded reptiles. In the distance, a couple of dragons were making complex convolutions in the sky. Charlie supplemented her observations with explanations about the environment and the functioning of the reserve. The reserve had all the necessary infrastructures: sheep breeding, clinic, a school for the staff's children, hotels for the temporary workers, etc. Then, they reached a small town on a mountainside, facing a black water lake. 

” All the employees of the reserve have the possibility of lodging in this town.” explained to the redhead as he got off his broom in front of a small house, overlooking the lake, similar to all those in the street.

"This means that you are already there when it’s necessary."

Charlie's training on the reserve was free, but he had to pay his rent and provide for himself. To do this, he either paid rubies on the nail, or he worked overtime by reinforcing the on-call or guard teams. 

"But even if you had the finances, you would still have opted for work to stay as close as possible to the dragons, didn’t you ?” the young woman amused herself while observing him.  
”Indeed”, he said, stepping aside to let her in. ”Welcome to my home!”

She entered a sober and functional interior with a kitchen open to a living room at the back of which flames were dancing in a fireplace. The walls looked like a patchwork of various photos. Then, he showed her her bedroom, the shower room and he let her settle down. 

When she reappeared in the living room, she had swapped her travel clothes for a casual outfit, and her arms were full of letters and gifts.

” When I announced that I was visiting you, everyone asked me to become their "delivery" service! Even your family... They have a very, very, relative trust in your owl!”

With a steaming cup of tea in the palm of her hands, Anthea wandered through the living room while Charlie read his family's mail and then that of their friends. She particularly lingered on the pictures on the wall. There were pictures of their group of friends at Hogwarts, of his family, pictures of his quidditch team with the cup, Charlie brandishing the Golden Snitch, and more recent pictures too: different species of dragons flying or spitting fire, scenes from the daily life of the redhead in the company of strangers to whom he seemed quite close. Whole life on a piece of wall. On the sideboard stood a dragon scale, which she immediately recognized, and a frame with a magnificent painting of a Welsh Green flying in a glowing red sky signed by their friend, Badeea Ali.

Anthea turned to the young man in the middle of reading. He was still the same red-haired man with regular and pleasant features, strewn with freckles, with the same dimple on his chin, his long eyelashes that she envied him, all topped with red hair tied in a catogan. Anthea had always thought that if benevolence had a face, it would be Charlie's, or at least that of a member of the Weasley clan (except Percy, whose buttocks occupied by a broom deprived him of the emblematic quality of his family). 

Her gaze lingered on his hands opening the gift sent by Penny. Full of calluses, cracks, and scars, his hands testified to the hard change in the sorcerer's life. Yet, the unique aura of a man living a waking dream to the full emanated from him. His passion for the dragon blossomed in this wilderness. Charlie was still the same, but different on a few points that she could not yet define. She had a week to do so. 

Anthea emptied her cup and turned her attention to the animated picture of a Norwegian Ridgeback, whose gaping mouth spat out a powerful jet of flames, while the young man was putting away his missives.

” So, Charlie, tell me! How does it feel to live your dream every day?”

”So I have a lot of things to tell you and show you !” he exclaimed.

”I'm all yours for the week! What's your program?”

”For tonight, I was thinking of having dinner here. But tomorrow you can come with me to the reserve, I have obtained all the access authorizations for you.” 

They spent the evening telling each other about their lives, sharing their anecdotes, the memorable encounters they had made, recalling the not so distant days at Hogwarts, while tasting Romanian specialties that Charlie had previously ordered. Soon, fatigue took over their spirits and laughter dried up and the yawning sounded the end of their evening reunion. 

In the early morning, she found Charlie in the kitchen, busy preparing breakfast. Torso bare.  
His slender physiognomy, typical of Seekers, had grown considerably to adapt to the efforts resulting from his daily activities. Anthea admired the bulging of his muscles which rolled under the pale skin studded with freckles. Then her eyes landed on the large scar of an old burn on her forearm before finding the few others stripping the skin here and there. 

Charlie's cheekbones took on a pinkish hue under the freckles as he felt her gaze on him. 

” Hello !” he said, turning to pick up his jersey from the back of a chair.

”Hello... And what's more, you're tattooed now?” she wondered when she saw a dragon adorning his left pectoral. ”Can I see ?”

”Yes... When Mummy saw him, she’s had so much hives that it looked like she had taken a bath with jellyfish! he joked.”

Anthea's eyes wrinkled as she observed the perfection of detail and she mechanically touched the chain around the animal's neck. She would almost have expected to feel the cold metal under her fingers, so striking was the realism. The winged lizard quivers strangely under her touch. 

She excused herself, taking her hand away as if she had been burned. 

”It looks like…” Anthea began

”The first dragon I saw was a Hungarian Horntail. The one you have…”

”defeated in the vault.” she finished in a breath.

The idea that Charlie had marked his skin with an element with which she was so intimately associated swed trouble in her. With her heart beating, the witch sought in the gentle gaze of her opposite her for a secret reason for the choice of this representation, notwithstanding the indecent proximity of their faces. They were at that particular distance where the magnetism of one mouth entered into action to irresistibly attract another...

The high-pitched whistle of the kettle startled them and required the immediate attention of the redhead. What had almost happened?" wondered the blonde, her heart beating at an erratic pace. Or rather, what had she almost done? Because, well, it was Charlie... That kind of thing was not his thing !

” Breakfast is served!" Charlie announced enthusiastically, putting a full tray on the table. And I advise you to eat well because lunch is often taken on the run.

So they ate with appetite while Charlie explained the day's program with some recommendations. 

” Your arm," she said, pointing to it with the butter knife, "Is the price for not following the recommendations ?!

An embarrassed grimace twisted his features. 

” Yes, it was at the very beginning... Enthusiasm made me forget the elementary prudence.”  
”How amazing! ”she commented ironically before going on to say something serious. ”Seeing your new physique, your job is putting your body through a lot of hardship…”  
”The mind too,” he said sombrely.

Anthea frowned, annoyed to know her tormented friend, but her voice was soft when she spoke. 

” Something you want to talk about?”  
”Maybe some other time!” he smiled. ”And stop noting all the changes on me, I feel like I'm undergoing an inspection !”

She shrugged her shoulders.

” The marks on your skin tell your story and the hardships you've been through... No wonder I'm dwelling on them when you're presenting me with such a large surface area! Besides, your mother demanded that I check some things about you !”

With a magic wand, a parchment appeared in her hands, she waved it under Charlie's nose to prove her point before consulting it to recall herself a detail that had caught her attention. 

” For the haircut, we'll pretend I didn't see that you've grown them back.”She smiled and winked at him. ”You're much better that way !”

A hearty laugh answered her. 

” Even that... I really need to explain a couple of things to her... One of them is that I'm not a kid anymore.” grumbled the dragonologist as he cleared the table before casting a household spell and leaving the premises. 

This day was dedicated to the care of dragons showing signs of old age, illness, injuries, or to young mothers and their young. The health and approach protocols of the dragons were followed with almost military rigor. Most of the care was carried out on sleeping dragons, except for young mothers who could have violent reactions towards their young when they woke up, due to the disorientation inherent in sedation. They were therefore immobilized with heavy chains subtly directed with their wands around the members of the dragons and then held in place by arm strength, which partly explained Charlie's new build. 

The dragons were powerful, aggressive, and unpredictable. And nothing was more dangerous than a vulnerable beast. The rigorous discipline of the protocols made sense in the most perilous situations where everyone no longer had to think, only follow the procedure, so repeated that it became an automatism guaranteeing everyone's survival. 

After a tiring day, Anthea slumped down on the sofa and closed her heavy eyelids.

” Exciting but exhausting! I don't know what is more exhausting, the physical strength that has to be deployed throughout the day, or the constant vigilance not to risk putting oneself or one's colleagues in danger. And to think that after all that, you are still studying to speed up your studies! If I could, I would bow.” Anthea said in awe.

”You knew how to make yourself useful at the right time... Your instinct is good, more than many beginners who come here, without ever having been confronted with the slightest danger.”

”Thank you, Charlie.” she said as she stands up. ”I'm sorry, I'm going to reinvigorate myself by taking a shower, otherwise I'm going to fall asleep here…”

”It would be a pity, tonight we're going out with friends !”

”Muggle place or wizard ? Formal or casual ?”

”It is a brewery run by a squib named Vlad. Everyone is welcome. Why?”

” Bah! to know how I should dress !” replied the blonde in the tone of evidence.

Suddenly, anxiety wrinkled the features of the spell-breaker.

” But if we go out, won't it be hard work for you tomorrow?”

”Tomorrow I will only be on call. The day should be quieter.”

Xxxx❤xxx❤xxx❤xxxX 

Charlie drove his friend to the Brewery where he had had his habits since his arrival in Romania. It was a cosmopolitan place where all the communities rubbed shoulders with each other, despite some occasional conflicts caused by drunkenness or the lust of a fleeting relationship. It was a perfect place to relax after a trying day. They walked to a table occupied by a man and a woman slightly older in appearance than them. 

”Pedro, Oriana, this is Anthea.” 

She gave them a shy wave of her hand as she sat down at the invitation of the duo. The robust Mediterranean man had strong features, an aquiline nose, a matt complexion, black ears of corn and the warmth of his expression instantly made him want to be his friend. The woman was a busty brunette with a friendly face and laughing eyes, with a cascade of curls falling on her bare shoulders. Anthea was bombarded with questions.

” I heard that you fought and defeated your first dragon when you were fifteen years old?” asked Pedro.

”Yes, but Charlie said he was old and weak.”

”And is it true that you convinced "Donnola" to stay at Hogwarts until the end of his studies?” asked Oriana with her singing accent from Italy.

”Donnola? I rather believe that it was my arguments that convinced him…”

The finger-pointing towards Charlie indicated who she referred to under the sweet name of "Donnola". 

” It means 'weasel.” Pedro explained. ”Is it true that you're as good as Charlie on a broom ?”

”It's flattering, but it's not true! We are the typical example to differentiate someone gifted, me, and a prodigy, him!” explained Anthea patiently, pointing to Charlie, sitting on her right.

”And is it true that you have already been here, that "Donnola" stole a golden egg from a dragon and that you saved him by facing him?”

”We were very lucky and Bill was there... I have the impression that you know a lot about me, so tell me about yourself before we get into embarrassing subjects !”

Both colleagues laughed heartily as they apologized for the interrogation.

” Donnola has told us so much about you that we feel we already know you.”

”While wanting to check if everything he said is true !” added Pedro.

Charlie's cheeks flared up at the blonde's expression full of silent questions.

” Guys, don't exaggerate either! Besides, she doesn't need to know that!”

The quator ate, drank, and joked merrily, in the warm atmosphere of the bar where alcohol flowed freely, to the sound of orchestrated music to make the customers dance to their hearts' content on the improvised dance floor with tables pushed against the walls. At the end of the meal, Oriana went away for a moment and came back with small glasses and a bottle of Tuică, a Romanian brandy. 

” Anthea! You can't leave Romania without having tasted this poison !” said the brunette, serving glass to each one. ”Vlad distils it himself !”

Cautiously, the young woman breathed in the contents of the glass and grimaced.

” Damn it! I'm going to spit fire with this !” explained the spell-breaker.

”Not only that. It has a strange power of disinhibition! Doesn't it, "Donnola"?”

The redhead rubbed his neck in embarrassment while a mutinous curiosity was painted on Anthea's face. 

” A little of this drink and some of them become the gods of the dance floor.” teased Pedro, ostensibly looking at the improvised dance floor and the red-headed man. 

No need to have twelve Nastily Exhausting Wizarding Tests to understand what the duo was up to. 

” Charlie, drink your glass!" Anthea ordered, emptying hers in one stroke for the example, before blowing noisily. ”Merlin! It's strong !”

She stood up and grabbed the redhead's hand. 

” Seven years of school together and I've never seen you dance! We're not leaving here until I've dragged you out onto the dance floor.”

”No!" he laughs with a touch of defiance, "we can stay as long as you want, it will always be no !"

”I'm going to dance with you." Pedro proposed, holding out a friendly hand. ”It will not be said that Pedro will have left a pretty woman spurned at a party in his presence !”

”Okay !" she said after a slight hesitation. ”Charlie! You lose nothing by waiting !”

The woman let herself be led on the track by her dance partner. A wave of nostalgia overwhelmed the red-headed man, who remembered the balls at Hogwarts where he only went as an observer, while Anthéa never lost an opportunity to wear out her shoes on the track. Hypnotised, Charlie watched her roll her hips in rhythm, follow her partner's steps, imitate those of her partner, and undulate her body under the guidance of a laughing Pedro who made her swirl around him. The vivacity of the movement lifted her dress to reveal her tapered thighs moulded in their silk tights. A surge of desire seized the redhead up to her throat, which became knotted. 

” Pull up your jaw!" Oriana mocked. 

Embarrassed to be so easy to read and furious at this abrupt daydreaming, Charlie shot her in the eye as he emptied the third glass. Yes, the third because the second one had been filled and emptied without him noticing. After dancing with Pedro, the witch split the crowd, rosy cheeks, and a cheerful smile stuck to her lips. 

” So Charlie, did you take enough liquid courage to dance with me ?” the witch asked.

”No !”

He smiled a forced smile. She swallowed the contents of her glass and took his hand to pull it towards her. In vain. 

”Stop being prayed to ! Come on !”

Charlie sighed. She wasn't going to let go. Maybe it was better to capitulate this time? Just this once... Merlin! He was going to be ridiculous!

” Just one and that's it.”

”Only one.” she promised, raising her palm.

”Let's go... Before I change my mind.” he capitulated.

Under the mocking eye of his friends, the redhead let himself be drawn towards the track as the rhythmic song turned into slower, more sensual music. 

” That wasn't what I had planned ! ”exclaimed Anthéa, disconcerted by this change of atmosphere. 

Not knowing how to react, she turned to Charlie. ”Is it still good for you? If you prefer something more...or less…”

He swept away her apprehension by pulling her hand to draw it to him and slipped a hand behind her back. 

” This is my chance to not be too ridiculous. ” he whispered humorously. ”I'll have plenty of time to think about where I can put my feet other than on your toes !”

She giggled. 

” How nice I am, even if you crush them, I'll pretend nothing so as not to embarrass you !” she joked.

”Too kind…”

The blonde's cool hand found his neck and they let themselves be rocked by the music, their bodies swaying in a soft, comfortable movement. A little drunk, Anthea let the environment fade and closed her eyes, sighing comfortably in the reassuring arms of the dragonologist. Her head pressed lightly on the shoulder of the redhead whose warm breath caressed her hair. When the music ended, they moved aside, having barely seen the time go by. 

” Thank you for bearing your ordeal so valiantly, Charlie.” she said in a hoarse voice devoid of the irony it should have contained. 

At that moment, a desire roared in the sorcerer's chest. An aborted impulse when she turned her back on him to join their table.

They ended the evening happily in the company of the duo of friends. The women shared astonishing complicity considering how little they knew about each other.

They entered arm in arm in a festive atmosphere which ended when they arrived in front of the door of Anthea's room. There was a moment of hesitation when they stopped with a dark glow of uncertain desire. Charlie's eyes avidly wandered the curves of Anthea, giving her the impression of being naked in front of him. And since the morning when the temptation to hang herself around his neck and kiss him to lose his mind had been great, the witch was fully aware of the effect the young man had on her body. She moistened her lips and leaned towards the redhead. 

” Thank you for a lovely evening, Charlie....” she kissed his cheek. ”But not tonight.” 

Leaning against the door she had just closed on Charlie, Anthea exhaled a long sigh to calm the fire on her cheeks. To take advantage of being a little drunk to make him dance was one thing, have sex with him in these conditions, and risk ruining seven years of deep friendship, was another she refused herself.  
But by Merlin's beard! She laid a trembling hand on her heart. He drummed like a madman in her chest.  
Did he realize the effect he was having on her ?

Xxxx❤xxx❤xxx❤xxxX

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dear English speakers,  
> Is the grammar correct for you? Please tell me my English is not too catastrophic!🤞🤞🤞 Thanks !
> 
> And, to be informed of the publication of the next chapter, subscribe.  
> Thank you!


	2. Whipped cream & metamorphmagus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **January 1992:**  
>  Charlie went to reinforce a team that had a member injured. Anthea decided to please him by preparing dinner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello,
> 
> I'm back with Chapter 2. Hope you like it.
> 
> Enjoy!

Xxxx❤xxx❤xxx❤xxxX

When she got up the next day, Anthea found the house surprisingly empty. A hastily scribbled word was prominently placed on the table. Charlie had gone away to drop off a file to his supervisor and was due back around eleven o'clock. The witch waited a long time. Midday passed. So did the first half of the afternoon. Finally, she went out into town in search of a shop. 

Charlie was on call today. Therefore, Anthea assumed that he had to be called urgently. Both to cheat boredom in his absence and to thank him for his welcome, the witch decided to prepare dinner for him. With his exhausting working days, Charlie must not have had much time to cook and would probably have had to make do with take-away food, which was quick to prepare or eat out. He must not have had many opportunities to eat the good food of England...

When Charlie came home, the house was filled with the smell of cooking and the table was set. Anthea looked up from the book of dragons she had borrowed from him while he was away. 

"Did you get lost on the way?" she teased, waving the note left in the morning announcing a return for eleven o'clock, which seemed to serve as a bookmark.

"If only... Sorry, I hadn't planned to spend the day like this." he said sheepishly. "A guy got hurt and I had to urgently reinforce his team... It smells good. Did you prepare the meal?"

She nodded. "I thought you might like to eat something other than Romanian food... Take some time to refresh yourself, I'll serve it when you're ready."

Xxxx❤xxx❤xxx❤xxxX

"Mmmm... Almost as good as Mum's!" exclaimed the wizard happily before swallowing a bite of lamb shepherd's pie. .

"I'm glad you like it!" the blonde answered sincerely. "But the credit goes to Jae. I just followed his recipe to the letter !"

"Do you cook often ?”

She finished her glass of water and filled it again, as well as that of her host, empty too. 

”I like to cook when I have guests. When I'm alone, I have to admit that I don't often bother.”

"We tell ourselves that it's not worth it ! A good meal is always better when it’s shared." answered the dragonologist. 

The young woman was in perfect agreement with the redhead. She cleared the table before bringing more cutlery, two chocolate mousses, an apple, and hazelnut crumble, and a bowl of whipped cream. 

"I didn't know what you liked." she excused herself as she sat down.

"I like them both! But, I'll only have crumble.”

"With whipped cream ?" she asked, putting a slice on a plate and then saying, "Homemade ?”

"It's for the crumble?" the redhead asked with astonishment. "You don't eat it with Custard Cream?"

Anthea vaguely remembered that a thick custard often accompanied the Hogwarts crumble. But she had never eaten one. Without thinking, she had prepared the dessert in her mother's way. 

"Uh... no, I don't know…" the blonde babbled. "I've always known it like that."

She was mortified. Anthea had prepared this meal to please Charlie and she had the unfortunate impression that she had ended on the wrong note, although the young man was polite enough to honour its preparation without showing the slightest annoyance. 

Charlie took a bite and rocked backwards on his chair with his eyes closed. He was enjoying himself. His mother had just been here a short while ago and had fed him some good food. However, the wizard felt as if it had been ages since he had had such a good feast. It was invigorating. Therefore, he kept the idea of making an effort to eat something other than "quick made, quick eaten" from time to time. 

They cleared the table, then a cleaning spell washed the dishes while Anthea carefully wrapped the remains. Charlie could tell she was upset, he could see it in the stiffness of her clenched jaw, but he couldn't understand why. She showed him the bowl of whipped cream. 

"I guess we can throw it away. You won't eat it anymore ?"

"Huh ? Are you crazy? Of course I'm going to eat it !" he exclaimed, tearing the bowl out of her hands. "With what, I'd eat my crumble otherwise ?"

Fun brightened her feminine features: Charlie had hidden the bowl behind him, shielding his own body from the outrage of the trash. 

"You're an idiot !” he said, putting some cream on the tip of Anthea's nose with his finger. "It's not because I have different habits that I'm incapable of appreciating novelty !"

She immediately removed the cream with her index finger and sucked it off briefly. It was delicious, by the way. 

"On the other hand..." he continued grinning, "I think I was... clumsy with my question."

"Leave it ! It's nothing." replied the blonde whose grudge was not against him, but against herself. 

No, it wasn't "nothing" for Charlie. Anthea had invested herself in trying to please him and she had felt a sense of failure with his silly question. The wizard didn't like to hurt the feelings of others, especially those he liked. And, he loved Anthea very much. 

"Stop frowning!" she exclaimed, briefly tickling the redhead's ribs to cheer him up. 

In retaliation, he blocked her with his body against the kitchen counter to tickle her in turn. She tried to retaliate while squirming to escape the gentle torture of laughter. In vain.

"No! Charlie, stop it !" she laughs. "Stop! Or... I cast a spell on you !"

He bowed to the threat but did not release it. The closeness of their entwined bodies, the cessation of laughter, the sudden awareness of each other, envy, uncertainty... Need. In the blink of an eye, the playful atmosphere was weighed down with unsatisfied desires. Charlie bent down to touch Anthea's lips with his own before daring a shy kiss. And then another, franker one. As if he hesitated to cross one line after the other or as if he feared he would be pushed away at every moment with a "not this evening".

With her heart beating, Anthea placed her hand on Charlie's neck to guide him back to her half-open lips, her tongue caressing the mouth of the sorcerer in an invitation to a more intimate exploration. Sharing the same breath, their lips united in the languorous ballet of their tongues. 

Charlie kissed Anthea with a delicacy that contrasted strangely with the firmness of his embrace. It was a soft, sweet kiss, full of desire and affection, which flared up to become more intense, more demanding. The redhead pressed her harder against him and felt her breasts squeeze against his chest. A powerful desire arose to consume him. 

One hand was foraging in the red hairs released from their catogan while the other slipped under the T-shirt to caress his abdominals. He shivered at the freshness of the contact. An abrupt movement of the elbow and the bowl of whipped cream fell to the ground in broken glass.

He spat a swear word. 

"You couldn't be more revealing than that !" Anthea exclaimed, bursting out laughing. "Now you're rid of him !"  
"No!" the redhead defended himself. "I swear it's involuntary !"

The apprentice dragonologist ruffled his hair with nervousness. He swallowed.

"Shall we go up?" he finally dared. "Before making more disasters ?" 

A spell cleaned up the disaster as he led her to his room. The ascent of the stairs was interspersed with sweet stops for intense kisses and caresses through their clothes. 

"Last night you refused. Why ?" he asked before gently sucking the so sensitive area of her neck while pressing it against the wall with his body. 

Her eyes half-closed, she gave herself up in a sigh of ease to the intimacy of this contact which exalted her desire for him. 

"So you don't do things you might regret later... Last time I checked, you weren't into "flirting and carnal pleasure" and you had drunk Tuică."

Charlie guessed that the topic would require discussion. Later.

"And now, do you want me?" he asked, looking ostensibly at the doorknob on Anthea's left, in an invitation to express himself through actions, by crossing the threshold of his lair herself. 

Without hesitation, Anthea opened the door pulling the young man by his belt with an expression that left no room for ambiguity. She was hungry for him. 

The witch fought for a moment with the opening of Charlie's trousers while he was taking off his shirt. The stocking slipped down to his ankles and in a few foot movements, he was out of the way, leaving him in his boxer shorts with his desire prominent. Anthea's feverish lips and hands moved on the newly discovered flesh, provoking a heatwave in Charlie, who skilfully undressed her and guided her to the bed where the witch let herself fall into his arms. 

The pauses in their kisses released a sporadic breath as Charlie rubbed his hips against Anthea in a pale copy of a sexual act. With a fluid movement, the witch reversed their positions, smothering a hiccup of surprise with her mouth. Her hand slipped under the thin cloth to further excite the redhead's erection. Her lips and tongue redrew his neck, his shoulders, his torso, the tattooed dragon quivering. The blonde froze for a moment.

It was so subtle that it went unnoticed at first sight. But the sensitivity of her mouth could not be deceived by an image. The tattoo concealed a scar. An ugly scar, still sensitive to touch. The explanation Charlie had on his lips was swallowed by a feverish kiss. Another subject for discussion later. 

She licked his abdominals, completely freeing his erect sex, burning with desire. The sigh of admiration that escaped from Anthea filled the redhead with contentment. The blonde lapped the length. It was hard, silky, and responsive under her tongue. 

"Oh ! Merlin! What are you doing to me ?!" He panted.  
"I'm doing it so badly that you need to ask ?” she joked before taking his cock in her mouth.

The sorcerer joyfully breathed a swear word, grouped the hair that was hindering her activity, and accompanied the movements as she enthusiastically sucked it, according to his reactions of pleasure and encouragement.  
"Mmmm…Fuck! I will cum !" warned the redhead.

A soft purr signified acceptance to receive his essence. Totally and simply.  
Holding the blond head in his hands, he sank several times deep into the welcoming mouth, before letting himself be carried away by an orgasm during which his sperm bathed the tongue that cuddled him. The white veil covering Charlie's eyes dissipated in his last spasm of pleasure. 

"Are you all right?" he worried as he released her. "I wasn't too rough? Because…"

A forefinger resting on his mouth, accompanied by a satisfied expression, made him shut up. The sorcerer rolled on her and crushed her mouth against his own. He stood upon an elbow while a hand was kneading a breast. Anthea shivered with emotion. His eyes darkened by desire, Charlie looked at her with adoration, as if she was the most precious treasure in the world. The witch thought that one could die for such looks. He kissed her again, long and passionately. He stole her breath while offering her his own, mixing their tongues and essences. 

Then Charlie went down along her curves and covered them with kisses and tender bites, lingering on her breasts, whose tips he sucked ardently. Drunk with pleasure, Anthea arched under his attentions, exhaling lascivious sighs. He breathed and embraced her femininity through the last barrier that separated them. Then, he hooked the edge of her panties before sliding them down. 

"Show me what you love” he whispered in the ear of the spell-breaker, touching the inside of her thighs and her dripping sex to clarify his thought. 

The witch blushes brightly. Charlie was really asking her to teach him how to make her cum?

Nevertheless, she grasped the young man's hand and guided it inside her to collect her moisture and spread it from her vulva to her pearl, which she caressed with his interposed hand.

"At first, rather soft, here…" she whispered before guiding two fingers into her wet vagina, "And more... Uh... Vigorous, there…"

The redhead's calloused fingers set about satisfying her.

"Like this? 

"Uh... More like that." she corrected by adjusting the position of the fingers stimulating the well of pleasures before giving it back its autonomy. " Oh! That's it... yes…"

Then, the mouth of the redhead came to complete the caresses of his hand, making it melt with pleasure. Panting, Anthea observed her lover and noticed that nothing could be more erotic than Charlie's face between her thighs.

"You're perfect," she said in a strangled voice as she fodders through the red hair.

The praise made him smile. He licked her, sucked her, and devoured her meticulously by stimulating her insides with his fingers. Voluptuousness overwhelmed the young woman as she was waving against the sorcerer's face. The orgasm surged like the great tide that the young man accompanied until the last wave, continuing to lick it slowly. With her eyes veiled by ecstasy, Anthea contemplated him with wonder.  
With envy.

"Charlie... Take me !" 

This languorous call made him impatient. He lay between her thighs trembling with excitement and their eyes joined together as he slid into her with measured slowness, making them groan in unison. Their initial appetite satiated by their delicious foreplay, the redhead now wished to make the pleasure last. For a long time. 

As a result, Charlie restrained his ardour and made slow but deep comings and goings, chewing the skin and annoying a nipple full of desire with a free hand. When Anthea came to meet his hip shots by digging her nails into his back, he increased the pace. Panting, sweaty, on the verge of orgasm, he stopped and found the nonchalance of the first comings and goings, covering it with kisses until they subsided. Then he increased the intensity of their fiery union again until he reached again that intoxicating stage before the stage of no return. 

"You're going to drive me crazy !" she moaned. "I want to…"

"Patience... I've been waiting for you for so long... Let me take advantage of it !"

Nevertheless, he straightened up on his spread knees, opened the thighs of Anthea further, and buried himself, as deeply as possible in her. 

You’ve been waiting for me...?" she repeated, surprised, before stopping. "Oh! Yes !"

Charlie's hips were banging her hips vigorously as she agitated in lust. The only sound was the clacking of their skins and the screams to which guttural grunts responded. The warm femininity deliciously hugged the harshness. Their climax was near. 

"I want you with me!" the blonde moaned.

"I'm here…"

Then the world exploded around them. Anthea was covered with violent shivers, causing Charlie to capsize and to spill out in a few erratic movements. He landed softly on the sultry blonde, heart beating against heart beating. 

"It was incredible!" panted the redhead.

Anthea nodded. She had never offered herself like this, in the most total abandonment - both physical and emotional - and she had never felt so pampered, so loved, in someone's arms as she did in Charlie's. Both fulfilled and troubled, she found it difficult to reconstruct her emotions scattered in this explosion of pleasure.

With their eyes half-closed, they remained for a long time embraced in the misty fullness that followed the orgasm whose intensity had amazed them. 

When Anthea opened her eyes again, Charlie stood up as if waiting for her awakening to deprive her of his warmth. They greeted each other with a warm kiss confirming their lack of regrets. He freed her from his weight by tipping on his back. The witch curled up against him. She touched the dragon on his skin, looking at the sorcerer in the hope that he still wants to give her an explanation. 

"I got badly skewered by a Romanian Longhorn." he answered honestly. "My mother was already worried sick about it - he showed the scar on his forearm - so imagine if she had seen a big scar here…"

"So you hid it under a tattoo so as not to worry her? That's very thoughtful!" commented the woman.

" Hey! I'm a good son !" exclaimed the redhead with a sly smile.

A tender expression greeted this statement. Dedication to their family was a quality common to both elders of the Weasley siblings. 

"And tell me, when and how did the Charlie who lived only for dragons, quidditch, and nature take an interest in the intimate pleasures of life ?"

He exhaled a long pensive sigh as he made a nonchalant hand dance on her skin.

"I don't know... But I think that once the goal of life is reached, the mind is free to open up to other things... And maybe the need for an outlet... Sometimes."

"So, your first sexual relations was with a Romanian girl or a witch from the reserve ?" she asked teasingly without really expecting an answer.

"A metamorphmagus… Here."

"A crispy detail !" thought Anthea, who imagined without difficulty the possibilities offered by this capacity (Thank you, Tonks).

"A metamorphmagus ?" she said.

He nodded his head as he stood up to sit down, leaning against the headboard. Her curiosity piqued, Anthea straddled him and tied her arms around his neck. Charlie mechanically stroked her chest rubbing his torso. 

"So ?" she asked mischievously. "She transformed herself into who ?"

"Huh? But who tells you she's transformed ?" he asked with a stain on his cheekbones.

"Why specify that it is a metamorphmagus if you hadn't taken advantage of this power? And, uh... The pink that blooms on your cheeks betray you." 

"Insightful... You weren't in Ravenclaw, by any chance ?" Charlie jeered before his mouth caught a nipple.

" Mmmm... Very funny ! So, who ?" she insisted.

" It doesn't matter…”

The sorcerer observed the effect of his suction on the nipple and seemed satisfied to see it pointing towards him. He turned towards the other one.

"Nothing beats the original."

She spread her bust and laughed outrageously. "Because you had the opportunity to compare? Admit it's a funny story !"

"I just did it." he admitted after clearing his throat.

" Oh! Blimey !!!"

She put one hand on her mouth which had spat out her amazement. 

"But I hadn't asked her anything," he explained hastily. "She has skills in legimency... She used them to find in my head ... A fantasy or someone... Because it amuses her to play characters, roles...."

"And she found me?" Anthea breathed, who didn't feel like laughing anymore.

"She put me in front of the accomplished fact but... Oh! Godric ! It didn't make me cold !” he admitted, hiding his face between her breasts. 

He was red to the roots of his hair. 

"Hey ! Did you enjoy yourself ? Did she too ? And it did not harm anyone ?" she asked reassuringly.

In response, he nodded between her breasts, shrugged his shoulders, and shook his head negatively. Charlie deliberately omitted to mention that the episode had occurred several times. And that it had helped to make him aware of the true nature of his feelings towards the blonde. 

"So, just relax ..... But you're not doing anything like everyone else !" she smiled.

"How was it for you ?" he asked, more to change the subject than out of a real desire to know. 

However, an impromptu thought lifted his stomach. His back was lifted off the headboard and the dragon specialist stared at her fiercely, grabbing her by the shoulders. "Tell me it wasn't Bill !" 

"It wasn't Bill." she repeated flatly.

"Oh, no !" he exclaimed, releasing it and leaning against the headboard again. "Godric! It was Bill !"

She giggled in front of his panic. "No! There was never the slightest ambiguity with Bill. He was always the big brother I needed when mine was away and nothing ever changed. If you want to know everything, he was a cute and kind Egyptian, who had the merit of being interested in me and not in what I had accomplished... The rest is of little interest. "

She bent down and nibbled his earlobe. 

"Anthea? Since we've passed... with flying colours... the "sexual relations" stage, do you want to go out with me ?" the young man stammered. "A drink, a dinner... whatever you want... face to face…"

She straightened herself up to scrutinize him. Charlie swallowed painfully as the cheeks turned pink under the myriad freckles. 

"Like a date ?" she asked. 

"No. Not "like a date"... A date," Charlie corrected.

"Quidditch... the day after tomorrow evening : Romania/Bulgaria…" 

Skepticism frowned on the red-headed man's forehead. "Don't you want something more... Romantic ?"

Anthea shook her head negatively and smiled. "A date allows two people to share a pleasant moment... We both love quidditch... So enjoy it !"

Mischief illuminated her features. 

"And doing nothing like everyone else can sometimes be a good thing: unlike many people on their first date, you won't have to wonder all evening long if you'll get the girl in your bed !

"Pfff... You've just ruined all the suspense !" ironized the redhead as he rolled over Anthea to train her again in a passionate body to body .

Xxxx❤xxx❤xxx❤xxxX


	3. The opal and the promise of nothing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **January 1992:  
>  End of stay? End of the adventure?**  
> Enjoy!

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Standing in front of the window, Anthea watched the night mist spreading over the lake as she blew on the steaming cup she was holding in her hands. It was the last morning of her stay in Romania. The week had gone by in a whirlwind of diverse emotions that left her dizzy. Who would have thought that her Romanian holiday would turn into an adventure with Charlie Weasley, one of her best friends, the dragon lover ?

Despite his obvious charm and the compatibility of their personalities, Anthea had never envisaged redhead as a possibility for flirtation or romance... He had always been a kind of untouchable ideal. So inaccessible that the subconscious would immediately dismiss him and fall back on more affordable, more interested people.

Yet, it took them less than two days to end up in the same bed. And then again... With less restraint, it would have started with the first breakfast!

She sighed, thinking that she had to resign herself to leave this story without a tomorrow. Charlie lived every day a waking dream that the witch would not want to disturb for anything in the world.

In the mist was the ghostly dragons that Charlie approached with deep deference. In Anthea's head, his deep voice explained the story of each dragon of the reserve, his character, his habits, or the characteristics of his species. By coming here, Anthea had been able to confirm what she had known all along. Charlie Weasley was born to live among dragons.

As for Anthea, she couldn’t pursue her career as a Spell Breaker deep in the Carpathians.  
She sighed. The dice were cast.

If she had the power to do so, Anthea would gladly delay the inevitable. This adventure with the redhead was probably the most sincere one she hadn’t ever had. The most intense too. For Charlie was generous in the bedroom as he was in life. Perhaps because it was more than "just sex", because they were also friends or because the union of bodies also tended to bring hearts closer together...

A certainty screamed in the depths of Anthea. A certainty that made her departure bitter. Under different circumstances, a real relationship could have blossomed...

Lost in thought, she couldn't hear the sound of footsteps approaching and jumped when a hand snaked around her waist to slip under a dressing gown and caress her naked belly. Spontaneously, she offered her neck as a morning offering for Charlie's lips as she leaned against his chest.

"Good morning."

"Are you all right ?" asked the redhead against her skin.

"Mmm..."

It was not a "yes", not a "no" either. It was an in-between, not quite a truth, not quite a lie.

"What about you?"

"I'm fine. It's still early." he whispered, reaching up to his hand to a nipple that he gently pinched with his fingernails.

The implicit message made Anthea smile. She put her cup on the window sill and bent down to offer her lips to the sorcerer who captured them without delay.  
Why think about the hypothetical future of a story with no tomorrow when the present was so delightfully calling?

Without needing a word, Charlie slide the young woman's bathrobe to the floor and he chewed on the most sensitive area of her neck. She leaned against the dragonologist and hiccupped as she felt the warmth of his morning erection nestle in her gluteal crease. He had joined her in the living room, naked as a worm !

Each of the young man's hands grasped a breast. His fingers irritated the pinkish halos and pinched the nipples. The young woman sighed against him in a call to intensify his caresses. A calloused hand left the velvety neckline to slide his lover's panties to her feet. He probed the soft folds of her femininity and sighed with satisfaction. Desire made her wet.

He touched her pulsating pearl, turned around, and rolled it under his fingers. She panted and her heartbeat so hard that he could feel her pulse under the palm caressing her chest. Then Charlie visited her vagina, his thumb continuing his caresses on the clitoris. She turned to face him and leaned against the windowsill to open up more to his delicate attentions.

He hugged her and sighed as his fingers continued their work to bring her pleasure. Trembling, Anthea caressed his cock, as hard as iron, and delicately manipulated the testicles as if they were dice. Then, the witch stiffened before being shaken by the apex of voluptuousness.

She tilted backwards and her back touched the cold glass. A long shiver ran down her spine. Anthea stiffened, pushed her lover away, picked up her bathrobe to cover herself with it, and closed the curtain on the window before leaning against Charlie, her crimson face buried in her hands.

" Blimey !!! Doing it in front of the window! How am I going to look like now ?"  
"An exhibitionist ?"he joked.

She reprimanded him by striking his chest.

"Oh, shut up ! That doesn't make me laugh !"

She was devastated. No, but what a shame !!!

"Do you think someone saw us ?"

Charlie had the sudden unfortunate impression that an answer in the affirmative would make her burst into tears. He had seen her fight dangerous creatures, black mages, and even dragons, with cold blood that forced admiration, and yet, she seemed ready to break down at the thought of her modesty being outraged. No matter how strong she was or what she had achieved, Anthea remained a young woman with similar concerns to all the others.

"No, don't worry... It's not the time for a change of team and nobody here is walking in the streets at this hour." he explained rationally.

The redhead heard her mumbling that she would never again dare to pass an employee from the reserve as he removed the dressing gown that covered her again. He redrew the witch's hills and valleys, and with a finger under her chin he raised her crumpled face of annoyance towards him.

"I'm the only one who saw you," he whispered. "I promise."  
"All right,"

Charlie kissed her with deliberate slowness until she relaxed in his arms again. Then, the wizard put his hands under her buttocks and pulled her up against him. He moved so that Anthea leaned against the wall. The arms around the wizard's neck, the legs tied around his waist, the blonde's mouth fluttered over the freckles. She licked the arch of his lips and slipped her tongue inside him. They kissed passionately, with the desire to offer each other one last time.

"Are you ready ?"  
"Yes! Fuck me, please !"

After a slight adjustment, Charlie filled Anthea most exquisitely. The blonde's head tilted back against the wall and she closed her eyes as he moved back and forth in her feminity.

"Look at me." he ordered in a breath.

She obeyed with a misty look, her face blurred in the throes of passion. An intense silent communication between them was established. Then Charlie's lips fell on hers and his tongue fucked her mouth as he fucked her sex.

He slid his arms behind Anthea's knees and lifted them to deepen their union, the intensity of which he savagely increased. The skin slammed against the skin and the grunts responded to the lascivious groans. Sweat beaded on Charlie's skin, which panted in the effort. He moved towards the couch on which he slumped, freeing the witch's legs to let himself be ridden.

Anthea bent down to explore his mouth as he hugged her waist. Fingers and nails danced on his muscles as she rolled her hips sensually over him, her black eyes of excitement staring at him with envy. Then she undulated back and forth, rubbing her pearl against her lover's lower abdomen, and she grabbed his calloused hands and put them where she wanted them to be. On her breasts.

Charlie loved those moments when he left her in complete control and Anthea confidently surrendered to the pleasure in him, on him, with him. He liked to admire her in this position glorifying her feminine curves, the curve of her muscles, the firmness of her breasts, her rosy cheeks, her swollen lips from having kissed him so much, the gold of her hair waving around her, and the locks stuck to her sweaty skin. He liked it even more when lust set her on fire that she was riding him wildly, tirelessly exhaling his name.

"You're gorgeous," he gasped.

The compliment was rewarded with a torrid kiss that took their breath away

" I want to feel you against me..."

With a firm hand on the back of his neck, she urged Charlie to stand up. The sorcerer embraced her tightly as she moved back and forth around him, ruffling the red hair and scratching his back.  
Pleasure rose within him and Charlie slipped a hand between them to further excite the bud dedicated to ecstasy.

"Cum for me, now !" he whistled between his clenched teeth in anticipation of his orgasm.

The extra stimulation took the witch to voluptuousness.

"Charlie !"

Like the cork violently expelled from a bottle of champagne, the name had spurted from Anthea's lips to let her orgasm spill out.  
In turn, Charlie surrendered to the intense pleasure that radiated from his cock to his entire body. In this total letting go, a primitive animal impulse invaded him, and the redhead bit the tender flesh, like a dragon in the middle of mating, sticking its fangs into the neck of his female.

Once calmed down, the young man observed the bite made in the heat of the action.

"It was beautiful, Charlie," Anthea murmured, wiping her watery eyes with her hands.

Moved, she took the redhead's face between her two cupped hands and kissed him tenderly.

"Didn't it hurt ?" " he asked, touching the imprint of his bite.  
"No, just a tingling."

She embraced him and pushed him back to the bottom of the sofa.

"You know, I'm going to end up believing that you invited me more to show me your bed than to see the dragons !"

She watched with amusement the fire under the myriad freckles.

"We're on the sofa !" he scowled before opting for a reflective silence.

Then, he resumed in a voice full of hesitation. " "Would it be bad if I said I'd invited you and hoped for this outcome? The two of us..."

The witch's voice became soft and warm as velvet. "The two of us? What do you want us to be, Charlie? Two thousand miles separate us and it took me months to be able to come and see you."

The redhead sighed. Yes, it would be wiser and more reasonable to consider this story as over as soon as Anthea left, to move on and forget it. Yet the idea of drawing a line under what they had lived together filled him with bitterness. Charlie didn't want to. He had waited for months for her, without even tasting her lips, and now he knew they went well together ... ...

"Listen," tempted Anthea, "I don't want promises that imprison us... We would risk betraying ourselves with a given word that we might not be able to keep... Feel free to do what you think is good for you... And we'll see what happens, okay ?"

Xxxx❤xxx❤xxx❤xxxX

Sitting on the sofa, where she had indulged herself an hour earlier, she asked Charlie to join her. After a shower and breakfast, it was time to say goodbye. He sat down next to Anthea and she handed him the small package on her lap.

"It's for you."

He delicately undid the paper and opened the box. Enclosed in a velvet case, was a small milky figure with iridescent reflections. He took it out completely to admire it in full light. The small opal sculpture had the pure shape of a dragon. Charlie had never seen an Antipodean Opaleye dragon, and considering their natural habitat in New Zealand, he would probably never get the chance to see one with his own eyes. But their appearance must have had a lot in common with the mineral in his hands.

"Er... Thank you, but I can't accept !"

"Well... Why not? If it's the market value that bothers you, you should know that the opal was offered to me by a colleague for getting him out of trouble. All I had to do was get it cut... But your gift isn't quite complete yet !" she says as she takes out her wand.

She took a deep breath and breathed deeply in concentration.

_"Draconifors"_

The wand moved as if to slice the sculpture and an orange light flashed out to reach its target, which metamorphosed under the astonished eyes of the redhead.

"An Antipodean Opaleye..." he said in an inaudible whisper as if he feared that a burst of voice would break the spell.

In the hollow of his arms had just appeared... A dragon! A living one! A real miniature dragon with pale iridescent scales and rainbow-coloured pupilless eyes! The animal spat out a small red flame and climbed up the redhead's arm until it reached the top of its head, from where the reptile sprang up to fly above them.

"It's really beautiful magic ! " thought Charlie as he admired the flight of the creature as it visited his new home.

Unlike other branches of witchcraft, metamorphosis required relentless accuracy to succeed. Professor Mac Gonagall had constantly reminded them of this during their schooling. The underlying work involved in making this transformation was one that Charlie respected. Anthea had had to study the dragon's anatomy in-depth to be able to reproduce its characteristics so brilliantly. The witch was talented but she had no merit in being born with this ability. But when her talent combined with hard work, she could do wonders, such as transforming a beautiful stone into the most exotic of dragons.

Anthea watched Charlie's face painted with an expression of wonder, worthy of a child receiving his first broom. She sighed in relief that she had achieved her goal. Seeing him shine with happiness was well worth the effort it took to succeed in the transfiguration of the statuette.

"When we were at Hogwarts, you often said that one day you would have a pet dragon...and that the Opaleye would make a good candidate."

"Do you remember that?" he wondered with amusement. "I'm not a kid anymore, you know ?"

"Yes, I've noticed that," she chuckled. "Yet you've fulfilled the dream of your life... You're not one to give up."

The brown eyes of the dragonologist thoughtfully admired the little dragon's convolutions. 

"Now, I know that the wild nature of dragons does not allow us to tame them, no matter how many bonds we manage to weave when they are babies. So, I stopped believing that I could have a pet dragon…"

"Oh!, I understand, so…" cut the blonde, "Goodbye dragon! Hello statuette !"

She mischievously drew her wand to dispel the enchantment.

"No! Don't!" he cried as he melted down on her and ripped her wand from her hands. "Don't touch my dragon !"

She burst out laughing as she welcomed him into her arms.

"So, you see that you're not quite ready to give up that dream too !" she teased.

"Pffff... You know me too well !" he grumbled as he realised that he had been fooled.

She plunged her hazel eyes into Charlie's.

"Yes, I know you... Because we've been friends for a long time." 

He nodded and kissed her for a long time. With affection.

"I have to go and you have to go to your precious dragons soon," Anthea announced in a hoarse voice.

The longer the farewells lasted, the tighter the heart and throat of the curse-breaker. Soon the courage to leave would leave her. She dressed with a heavy heart under the falsely impassive eye of Charlie, who held the little dragon rolling in a ball in his arms.

"Looks like you two are going to get along well."  
"I guess he carries the love of his invocator for me !" he joked.

The innuendo of the question "Do you love me ?" resonated strongly in Anthea's mind. Was it intentional? When in doubt, she decided not to answer.

Charlie wrapped her in a warm embrace in which Anthea let herself melt, breathing in the springtime scent that characterized him one last time.

"And to think that going back to work is what will allow me to recover from my holidays! You are an exhausting host !"

The attempt at humour hit the nail on the head and Charlie laughed softly.

"But you'll be back "? asked Charlie.

"Is that an invitation ?"

"Maybe it is…"

"So, maybe see you next time !" she said with a knowing wink.

Anthea stepped aside and crossed the threshold of the house. She took her broom out of her bag with a spell of undetectable extension, straddled it, and flew away without a glance back.

As her silhouette blended into the mist, Charlie only hoped that this time he wouldn't have to wait six months for her...

Xxxx❤xxx❤xxx❤xxxX

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the reading !
> 
> ❤ ? Comment ?Anything is welcome ! 😊
> 
> Thanks.


	4. Norbert(a)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **April 1992 :**  
>  Charlie welcomes some friends and Norbert, the Hagrid’s dragon, to the reserve.

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Indeed, the wait didn’t last six months. Charlie had to wait four months, along with his miniature dragon, which he had named Kara and which was on her way to becoming the reserve mascot, as she stuck her nose in everything. This was strangely reminiscent of her creator.

Ron, his younger brother, had informed him that Hagrid had a dragon that was becoming dangerously cumbersome. As a result, the apprentice dragonologist had organised an exfiltration mission, taking advantage of a visit to his home by a couple of friends who were passionate about magical creatures, Barnaby Lee and Liz Tuttle. They were delighted to travel in the company of a creature as rare and extraordinary as a Norwegian Ridgeback. 

Charlie had also asked for Anthea's help. She had taken a leave of absence to oversee the mission and ensure the safety of the group. Finally, the latter had convinced Andre Egwu, a skilled broom pilot, to accompany them on this trip. The young man had also designed the harness used to secure the transport box between their four brooms.

Charlie had waited for them with Oriana, Pedro, and Caldus Falx, their team leader, at their meeting point in the reserve. And after the outpouring of joy and presentations, the Reserve experts inspected the contents of the crate through the various air holes. The black dragon slept a peaceful sleep. His breathing was deep and steady. 

"How was the trip ?" Caldus asked. "You're late." 

Tall and muscular, this man had the natural authority and dignity of a leader of men. His blond hair, with a few braids running down to his shoulders, was strewn with shiny runic pearls. His face was weathered, with regular features hollowed out by nascent wrinkles, and a braided beard hung from his chin. For Anthea, who had known him since her previous stay, Caldus Falx was the very image of a Viking, in body and mind.

"Hey ! Well...Norbert…"

"Norberta" corrected Liz by cleaning her glasses in her cape. "She is a female who didn't enjoy this trip very much."

That was an understatement! For lack of being able to calm her down, Anthea had used up all the stock of sleeping potions for dragons that Penny had concocted. 

"And if we exclude Barnaby's crazy swerve which almost sent us into electric pylons because "Mister" likes to fly with his eyes closed to feel the wind, everything was for the best !" completed Andre, acerbically. 

"Are we talking about your whim to fly over Berlin ? The German fashion capital ?" grumbled Liz, her crown of braid moving with each swing of her head. . "And don't antagonize a man in the middle of couvade !"

"In the middle of couvade ?" Pedro repeated incredulously. "Although... You know what? I don't really care !"

"Please" tempered Barnaby, an athletic brown man with emerald eyes, by caressing his bumpy belly. "Stop arguing..."

Anthea pinched the bridge of her nose in exasperation. The tiredness and promiscuity of these three days revealed the worst of their respective characters. 

"On the whole, everything went well." Anthea continued. "We recovered Norberta at the top of the astronomy tower as agreed…"

"Have you seen Ron? How is he?" Charlie cut in.

"He wasn't there. A wound that got infected forced him to stay in the infirmary but nothing serious, don't worry…" she smiles reassuringly before continuing. "So we snuck into the forbidden forest and travelled by night, except for this end of the journey... But we were spotted by smugglers while we were camping in the black forest."

Charlie frowned worriedly while Caldus, imperturbable, blew the lid off the box with a wave of his wand.

"Neutralized without a single injury" reassured Anthea who sweeping away the redhead's mute anxiety with her hand. "But they were holding many magical creatures, probably stolen. Liz contacted the German Magic Creature Regulation Service to get everyone taken care of."

The young woman could hardly repress a yawn. 

"And... It's... What... that ?" asked Oriana's disgusted voice. 

The Italian exposed for all to see, keeping as far away from her as possible, the stinking corpse of a decapitated, dismembered plush, dripping with slime, dried blood, with the cotton padding leaking through all the openings. 

"It's Norberta's cuddly toy!" Liz replied. 

"A... cuddly toy ?" repeated Pedro and Oriana, in the same incredulous voice. 

"Yes ! a cuddly toy !" said Barnaby before his face crumpled in confusion. "Um... You don't know what a cuddly toy is ?"

Charlie shook his head with amusement. Baby dragons had nothing in common with human toddlers. Neither of them felt the need for a maternal substitute.

"Giving a Teddy bear to a dragon…" The redhead commented with amusement. "Hagrid, true to himself ...!" 

After a thorough health check, the three young reserve workers installed a leather muzzle in Norberta and tied its legs. Then they loaded the little dragon onto Caldus' shoulders and he started with disconcerting ease. Pedro and Oriana invited the quartet to follow them, explaining that the road would be short. 

"What is the official story of this dragon ?" asked Pedro. "The reserve is free to welcome him, but certain formalities oblige us to retrace his journey…"

Of course, it was out of the question to mention that the egg had been fraudulently won in a gambling game by the half-giant Hagrid, illegally kept in his wooden hut to fulfil his dream of dragon training and smuggled from Scotland, before being welcomed to the reserve. 

"Yes, Charlie had warned us about this. So we had a plan A... But with Liz, we came up with a much better plan B. Barnaby, will you show them ?"

The magizoologist opened the sides of his cape to reveal a rounded belly. He slid his hand under his clothes to pull out a dark grey egg with blue and silver stakes. A Swedish Short-Snout egg. Charlie, Oriana, and Pedro marvelled at this find as Anthea approached the "Viking", Caldus.

" Thanks to these smugglers and Liz's persuasive animal welfare skills, we have been officially commissioned by the German authorities to bring you this egg and Norberta." Anthea said.

With a wave of her magic wand, she made some papers in her hand. 

"You will just have to go through a few administrative formalities to confirm the receipt of this precious "shipment"." she said.

"Pedro! You'll take care of the paperwork," ordered the tall blond man.

Pedro's grumble and Oriana's mocking laughter greeted the news, as they reached a large enclosure topped by a high wire dome. Gently, the dragonologist laid his burden on the ground and ordered Charlie to make the first contact with the creature while he led the others to the brazier that served as a nursery. 

"It'll be good exercise for you !"

"Can I stay here, Caldus ?" asked Anthea. "I'd like to see Norberta move freely."

The man looked at her with his blue-grey glacier-like eyes. "All right... But don't disturb his work."

The blonde nodded as she entered the enclosure. Charlie had put on his dragon skin gloves and sat on the floor. He lifted the reptile's head and put it on his thigh.

"Oh, that reminds me…" The young woman took a notebook out of her pocket and handed it to the redhead. Charlie consulted it briefly. 

"You recorded everything accurately, times and quantities of potions administered, food, exercise, behaviour..." he commented admiringly.

"You had asked for a follow-up, but we didn't know what data would be useful to you, so we wrote it all down." she said embarrassedly, massaging her neck. 

"Norwegians Ridgebacks are rare because of their aggressiveness towards other Norwegians. So we have little information about them, so any information is welcome." reassured the red-headed man.

Charlie took a graduated pipette out of his pocket and slipped it between Norberta's fangs to administer a dose of Wideye Potion, whose formulation was adapted to the dragons' metabolism. He then watched for signs of the creature's awakening by massaging its throat. The reptile's eyelids quivered, intermittently revealing his orange irises split by a sooty black pupil. Norberta jerked around a few times before awakening fully in a threatening growl. She tried to get away from Charlie, but the ropes on her legs forced her to crawl awkwardly. 

Fascinated, Anthea observed the interactions between the apprentice dragonologist and the young Norwegian Ridgeback. Concentrated, the redhead seemed indifferent to her presence, to the world around him, to the threatening black clouds piling up in the sky above them. In a calm and composed voice, Charlie soothed Norberta. He commented on her actions, smiled at her, and put words to her about the creature's ills, begging her to stop spewing smoke into her muzzle or she would choke. 

Fierce, the little dragon would growl. Everything about her was mistrust, intimidation, and anger. This wild and fierce nature was a big part of Charlie's attachment to dragons. Gradually the creature approached, growling as a measure of her forced pacifism, and Charlie cautiously untied her legs before stepping aside to finally convince her that he was no threat. 

The reptile wandered in one direction and made a brutal U-turn. Blackish smoke billowed from the edges of the muzzle and Norberta's tail whipped the air with irritation before hitting the ground with a thud. Then Norberta lay down on her side and with her claws, she tried to remove the leather blocking her mouth. In vain. Frustrated, the creature struggled and raged with rage, waving brutal flips in the cloud of smoke she was spitting out. Suddenly, the reptile's eyelids appeared heavy, her angry restlessness became lethargic under the worried and stunned eyes of the two young men. The little dragon came to rest on the ground. Fainted. 

Immediately, Charlie freed the creature's snout and searched for a trace of her breath. 

"Shit ! She suffocated herself."

" With her own smoke ?" asked the spell-breaker.

He nodded, pulled out his wand, and pointed it to the sky to give the alert. A sheaf of scarlet sparks burst out of it and through the screened dome and exploded into the sky above them. The red-headed man placed his hands in a funnel around the dragon's half-open snout, taking care to cover his nostrils. Then Charlie took a deep breath and breathed air into the dragon. 

Despite the fright she felt inside, Anthea forced herself to silence. Under no circumstances would she have wanted to disturb Charlie in those fateful moments when he was showing exemplary composure. Totally helpless, the blonde clung to the redhead's expertise, knowing that no one was more able and determined than Charlie to assist the creature. 

The actions of the apprentice dragonologist were taking effect. Norberta's belly, which rose and fell to the rhythm of the redhead's mouth-to-mouth and nose, bore witness to this. After a few long breaths offered to the reptile, Charlie began to pant. Filling a dragon's lungs was no easy task, not to mention the stress that would shorten the breath. He continued a little longer and had to take a break to stabilize his own breathing.

Without thinking, Anthea took over from the wizard who looked at her with his wide-open eyes, shocked by a whirlwind of amazement, admiration, and deep gratitude. Deep inside Charlie, a spectacular certainty came over him, luminous, like an obviousness: At that very moment, they were exactly where they should be in this world. Both of them. 

After two half-effective breaths, Anthea became alarmed:

"I can't put my hands in like you."

The man came out of his torpor and encompassed the young woman's hands with his own, wider, and enveloping hands. He addressed her with an encouraging smile.

"I'll start again at seven," he said. 

They combined their efforts and took turns in Norberta's breathing assistance until the first signs of her resuscitation. Suddenly, the dragon jumped up and away from them again, growling. Then it clumsily ran at a fish that was dragging on the ground and seemed to appear out of nowhere.

"We did it!" Anthea exclaimed cheerfully, hanging around Charlie's neck. "That's…"

" Awesome ! Thank you ! I'd like to care dragons with you all my life !" exulted the redhead, hugging her warmly. 

"That sucks as a marriage proposal! !" sneered a friendly male voice. 

It was Pedro. Charlie gasped, blushed as he released his embrace and grumbled that his statement was not romantic, but praised the effectiveness of their cooperation.

"Pedro, Caldus... Have you been here long ?" asked the spell-breaker. 

"Long enough." said the blond man throwing other fish. "It's not easy to give a dragon his breath back. It's a good job... both of you."

Caldus' icy gaze fell on Charlie. "I want a full report."

After a lively but quick dinner, Caldus, Pedro, and Oriana went home to let the exhausted travellers rest. Andre wanted to decide on the allocation of rooms by having the two women sleep in the guest room. 

"Barnaby and Liz, together in the guest room !" sliced Anthea, completely slumped on the sofa. 

Andre had a horrified expression. 

"Oh, no! They are going to copulate like rabbits again !" Andrew protested before turning to the couple who going upstairs to the first floor, hand in hand. "You two, soundproof the room! If I hear any more about Barnaby's prostate or Liz raving about the power of her stallion…”

"The prostate ?" repeated the magizoologist. "What is the prostate ?"

Andre hit himself on the forehead, visibly annoyed, while Liz discreetly informed Barnaby.

" In short ! If I hear you, I'll cut them off and feed them to the dragons !" threatened the wizard stylist. 

The couple turned pale with fright and went quietly into the bedroom. Andre rolled his eyes to the sky.

"By dint of living alone in the wilderness, they have completely lost the notion of "privacy"." he explained to Charlie. "So you might as well know that the trip was particularly trying. Well, your room is also up there I suppose? Anthea, do you take the sofa ?"

No answer came to them. The spell-breaker had fallen asleep on the proposed sofa.

"I guess that means "yes"!" joked Andre as he stretched out the witch's legs while Charlie covered her with a blanket before going upstairs. 

Charlie got up in the middle of the night to drink. He took the opportunity to make sure the spell-breaker was okay. It was amazing how quickly she gave in to the sandman's call. As far as the redhead knew, this was not the young woman's habit. He gently pulled a blonde lock out of her face and she lifted the blanket as an invitation to join her. 

Once settled, Anthea huddled up against him. Charlie was a strong and loving guy. He inspired confidence and a peaceful sense of security lulled the witch's drowsiness and she sighed with a sigh of well-being. 

"I missed you." he said, kissing the top of the head that was resting on his chest.

"I can feel that !" she sighed, smiling half-amused, half satisfied. 

Charlie turned scarlet. "Sorry, it's... An independent area... Sleep."

A long silence answered her, so much so that he thought she had gone back to sleep. 

"I missed you too... I shouldn't say this, but I'll miss you, even more, when I'm gone."

A joyless smile stretched the sorcerer's lips. "I know. "

Charlie got up at dawn, before anyone else. He didn't want to be caught cuddling Anthea and having to explain the nature of their relationship when he himself didn't know how to define it. 

The redhead watched Andre leave after breakfast. Then Charlie left for work with Barnaby and Liz, who was going to stay with him for a few days, and they let the spell-breaker sleep. By the time they returned to his home in the evening, Anthea had already left for Egypt, leaving only a letter on the table to excuse her departure without "goodbye"...

Xxxx❤xxx❤xxx❤xxxX

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, 
> 
> Did you like this new chapter making the link with book 1 of the Harry Potter saga ?  
> Did that seem credible to you ?  
> Personaly,I always imagined that my MC was part of the group that transferred Norbert to Romania. Not you ?
> 
> Translating a French text into English is not easy for me. I haven't received any comments on this but I wonder: is it because there aren't many errors and it's not worth reporting? Or on the contrary, is it because there are too many?🤔 If you detect any type of recurring error, please let me know. It will help me improve the quality of what I present to you. Thanks !


	5. Dragonologist !  At last!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **July 1992 :**  
>  Charlie graduated. He is officially a dragonologist.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello!
> 
> Thank you for making it this far. Here is the fifth chapter, very light and festive. I hope you enjoy!

Xxxx❤xxx❤xxx❤xxxX

July 1992 started under the best auspices for Charlie! He was officially a dragonologist! At last! He had passed all his exams with flying colours, making him one of the youngest graduates in the history of the Reserve. 

Caldus and a few colleagues took him to Vlad's bar to celebrate the event. The evening promised to be festive. Charlie proudly wore his new badge on his chest, the only outward sign of his new status. The young man had already had his diploma framed and fixed it to the wall at home. He had sent an owl to his family to tell them the good news, but he regretted their absence. More than in hard times, it was in happy moments that he missed his loved ones the most. If suffering needed loneliness, joy was only fully experienced in sharing. Caldus pushed him unceremoniously into the bar where the redhead had his habits. 

"SURPRISE!!!!"

A myriad of familiar faces greeted him in unison with enthusiastic applause. His brother Bill, Anthea, Tonks, Tulip, Barnaby, Liz, André, Jae, Ben, Penny, Oriana, Pedro, and other colleagues. Absolutely delighted, Charlie approached his elder brother whose arm was hijacked by Oriana.

"Do you know each other?" asked Charlie, his gaze going from Oriana to Bill and from Bill to Pedro. 

"Anthea put us in touch. You hadn't told us that your brother was so charming?" said the Italian, throwing an enticing glance at the Weasley's eldest son, who took the colour of a ripe tomato. 

"Or that you had such a funny friend," adds Pedro, passing a friendly arm around the shoulders of a silhouette recognizable.

The young woman burst a huge bubble of chewing gum, revealing her heart-shaped face framed by pink hair. 

"Hey! What's up, buddy?"

"Tonks!" exclaimed Charlie, hugging her happily. 

"As well as being cool, she's a much more talented metamorphmagus than Fanny," Oriana commented admiringly, referring to the Reserve's metamorphmagus. 

"Fanny plays her trump cards differently," replied Charlie with an embarrassing indulgence that aroused the suspicions of the auror in training. 

Tonks raised an eyebrow and looked at Anthea and Oriana. In total silence, a mysterious female conversation took place under Charlie's, particularly confused gaze. In chorus, Anthea and the Italian informed the funny witch with her bright eyes: 

"He had sex with her!"

The two women burst out laughing as Charlie, more crimson than the flame of an Opaleye, walked away mumbling to greet Jae Kim, a friend of Korean origin, a smuggling specialist, with a passion for cooking. 

"Ha! but then," the future auror slowly resumed following Charlie with his wide-open eyes filled with tearful pride, "my baby dragon has finally become a man!"

Tonks pulled herself together and jumped into the air, clapping her hands joyfully. "Yeah!" she shouted in an ecstatic voice. "My baby dragon…"

Anthea put her hand over Tonks' mouth. As flattering as the public revelation of conquest could be - although Charlie didn't seem to take any pride in his sex life - so talking about his loss of virginity in front of all his colleagues could be embarrassing for the redhead. Not to mention that letting the subject drag on increased the possibility of a rather embarrassing question. The same one that Anthea had asked. Had the metamorphmagus used her powers during the act? And how? 

"Seriously, Tonks! Not here!" ordered the blonde.

"All right," chuckled the faithful friend. "I'll shut up!"

After greeting everyone, Charlie joined Anthea. 

"Was this all your idea?" spreading a chair for her before sitting down between the blonde and Tonks, facing Caldus, Bill, and Oriana.

"Bill's. He wanted to show you what a real surprise party was." She said.

"Not like the one we threw him for his graduation, right?" understood the redhead. 

"A surprise that was no longer a surprise as soon as you initiated it," Bill intervened with a sly smile.

"Thank you, Bill, for reminding us how bad we were," Charlie grinned as he rolled his eyes up to the pub ceiling.

"Anyway, congratulations, Charlie!" Anthea continued. "You can be proud of yourself!"

The evening took place in a good-natured atmosphere. Bill gave his younger brother a howler from their parents to congratulate him. There was food and drink, some burlesque imitations of Tonks which delighted Charlie's colleagues - all of whom were very surprised at the comic potential of her metamorphic power which she used in such a different way from "Fanny" -, Tulip's jokes, music, and dances... 

Talking with each of his classmates, Charlie couldn't help but admire the spell breaker, who happily chained the dance partners, with a clear preference for Pedro, Jae, and... Penny, the potion maker who had taken advantage of the dinner to announce to the group of friends, with great apprehension, her love affair with Skye Parkin, the Quidditch player she had been a fan of since her first year at Hogwarts. 

Oriana monopolised Bill's attention and he seemed to have no hesitation in deepening his knowledge of the Italian language. As for Tonks, she ruined her chances of finishing her night with one of Charlie's colleagues by clumsily spilling the contents of her plate on him. 

"Never mind," she said, shrugging her shoulders casually as the young man, furious, went to the toilet to repair the damage. "Anyway, I prefer older, more experienced men."

A memory resurfaced, she tapped her mouth with her index finger. 

"It makes me think... Maybe that's why Anthea predicted me a relationship with a vampire in the lesson of chiromancy?"

"A vampire? Just that?" Bill laughed. "And why not a Werewolf while we're at it?" 

"Yeah, it would be too weird ! You're right!" replied Tonks, sweeping what she had just said with her hand.

"Anyway, Anthea never shone in divination," Charlie added as she watched her return to them, a tray full of drinks levitating above her. 

Everyone recounted their journey since the end of Hogwarts: Anthea and Bill's spell-breaking career in Egypt, Tonks, and Ben with their Auror training under the most terrible of them all, Mad-Eye, Tulip's success in creating jokes and catches, André's success in Quidditch and fashion design, Liz and Barnaby's life in the wilderness, Jae's restaurant, Penny and her potion shop in London. And Charlie happily linked up with his school classmates and work colleagues. The latter were not short of anecdotes about the new dragonologist and were happy to share them with the Hogwarts gang. 

Little by little, the joyful gathering disintegrated as its members became tired or drunk.

"Is Bill already gone?" Charlie wondered.

" He slipped away with Oriana half an hour ago," informed Anthea by emptying her pint of Butterbeer. 

The young man blushes, understanding what this departure implied. 

"And I will leave you in my turn," said the young woman, rising to her feet. "I must leave tomorrow. Congratulations again, Charlie!"

"Aren't you staying for a few days?"

She shook her head negatively. "The boss has set more quests on fire for me !"

Charlie's forehead wrinkled with confusion. "But isn't my brother your superior now?"

The latter had been promoted to coordinator three months earlier through a retirement. Among other responsibilities, Bill was responsible for assigning quests to the curse breakers at Gringotts in Luxor. Anthea, therefore, worked under his immediate supervision. 

"And you think that entitles me to special treatment?" she chuckled. "I feel like I have even more work than before…"

She turned to the remaining people.

"Looking forward to seeing you all again in equally joyful circumstances!" she greeted. 

With the stubborn insistence of a drunk man, one of Charlie's colleagues offered to walk her back to the hotel where she was staying. Just as stubbornly, Anthea politely refused until a distraction offered by Pedro allowed her to slip away under Charlie's pensive, and somewhat unhappy gaze. He had so hoped to spend time alone with Anthea... But she hadn't shown a similar desire. This disappointed him. 

"What are you waiting for to follow her?" Caldus grumbled. "Instead of looking at her like a puppy that sees its master leave, go ahead!"

"Huh?"

"Front right pocket," the tall blond answered laconically. 

The redhead searched his trouser pocket and found the key to a hotel room. The message of this key was clear. A smile stretched out his mouth, under the amused gaze of his colleagues still present. However, he was quite embarrassed about Caldus, like a teenager in front of his father, who knew about his first sexual intercourse. His supervisor emptied his pint in one go and stood up with one hand on the redhead's shoulder. 

"I want you on time and ready for duty tomorrow," said the man in a voice weighed down by alcohol but not without authority. "Is that understood?"

Charlie nodded his head before joining Anthea. He found her in her room untangling her hair, wrapped in a towel.

"Hey! You were quick," she blew as she turned to him, her gaze dark and bright. 

Charlie was devouring her with his eyes. Her gaze swayed from one curve to the other, like a hungry man looking for the best piece of the dish before his eyes. Motivated by an unspoken agreement, they melted on top of each other and kissed madly. Charlie would have wanted to kiss her for hours. However, there was another, much more pressing need. 

"Take it all off !" she ordered, interrupting the kiss to take off Charlie's jersey, before eagerly attacking his trousers. "I want you! Now!"

"I won't last long," Charlie blew between kisses, while impatiently releasing his towel. "Then it will be quick and hard... And then I'll fuck you slowly."

"Hard! Perfect!"

There was no need to build up the excitement. They already wanted each other so badly. They were at the stage where uniting their bodies was as vital a need as breathing. The ease with which he sank into her almost made him come instantly. 

"Mmmm...Fuck! It's too good!" moaned the redhead. 

Anthea was perfect. Tight, warm, moist, just for him. He began to move with an ardour commensurate with his indomitable appetite for her. The blonde put her mouth on his neck to leave a trail of hot kisses where his pulse beat. The pleasure spread to Anthea's lower abdomen and Charlie trapped both wrists in one hand above the blonde head.

"Give it all away, Charlie...Please." she panted.

The sorcerer gave up all control and his movements became more frenetic, disordered. Charlie seemed determined to sink as deeply as possible into the body that welcomed him with equal fervour. He pounded her in this way until the orgasm exploded inside her, initiating the orgasm of the redheaded man who bit the tender flesh under his lips. For a moment, they were no longer conscious of anything except their moist bodies, which merged. Panting, they settled into a silent sharing of emotions and united their smiles. 

"I know we didn't promise anything but I need to know... Have you had any others?"

Confused, the witch in his arms stared at him incomprehensibly. 

"Have you had any other lovers since.....?"

He left the end hanging. 

"No, but are you serious? Is that what you're thinking about now?"

Anthea was outraged, confused, and... trapped. She stubbornly turned her hazel eyes away from the redhead by biting her lower lip. Lying was not an option and the truth might reveal another that she was not ready to confess. 

She shook her head negatively and he caressed her cheek before pressing his mouth against hers in a gentle kiss. The spell breaker's heart missed a beat. Something had changed. The intention. 

Then, as announced, they had sex slowly. With patience, they offered each other all the caresses they had fantasized about during their separation, abandoning themselves body and soul on the shores of voluptuousness. 

They were together, embraced. And for Charlie, there was nothing more important at that moment than to see her sleeping in his arms. But... 

"Next time... It would be nice if we could talk to each other."

Xxxx❤xxx❤xxx❤xxxX

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are a lot of Tonks in this chapter. And I liked writing this allusion to her future lover. Did you like it too?  
> If this story gave you a little bit of pleasure, feel free to express it with a ❤  
> or in a comment, no matter how small! It will brighten my day!🌞 
> 
> If you liked this fiction and you are authors, it is possible that I like yours, do not hesitate to make yourself known. 😉
> 
> The next chapter will take you to Egypt.


	6. From Luxor to Thessaloniki

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **August 1993 :**  
>  The Weasley clan arrives in Egypt for the holidays. To Anthea's surprise, Charlie is also part of the trip.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello,  
> This is one of my favorite chapters.  
> Hope you like it as much as I do.
> 
> Enjoy !

Xxxx❤xxx❤xxx❤xxxX

After a successful quest, Anthea went to Bill's house. He lived in a house of traditional architecture, just like hers located about a hundred meters away. It looked like a mud-brick cube covered with blue flaking paint, with thick walls to insulate from the heat. Shards of male voices filtered through the shutters. The witch knocked three times at the door.

"Come in! 

The witch obeyed and froze in the door frame, her eyes wide open like saucers, her breath cut off. Blimey! Charlie was there! In Luxor! More than a year had passed since they had last seen each other and that the redhead had graduated as a dragonologist. Thirteen months during which the spell-breaker had been unable to honour the various invitations Charlie had sent her. And how long had it been since her last letter? 

The emotion tied her throat and her heart began to throb with frenzy. Anthea would have wanted to tell him that she was sorry she hadn't come, that she had written less and... But a bear's embrace had lifted her off the ground and wrapped her so tightly that she feared for her ribs. 

"What was that?" she asked sarcastically. "The hug of the hungry python?"

"Me too, I'm delighted to see you!"

Charlie radiated, literally. His silhouette and charisma had been further enhanced. New scars streaked his arms and his features had been carved under the rigours of the mountainous climate of the Carpathians. Of course, life in the Reserve had made him considerably stronger, but benevolence still flooded his face. Merlin! He was still just as... magnetic. With his head tilted to the side, Charlie studied her with curiosity, just as she did herself. The fire ignited her cheeks at this observation, which ignited a spark of mischief in Charlie's eyes. Anthea cleared her throat.

"Bill had announced to me that his family was coming for the holidays but I didn't think you would be part of the trip... Thirty days, far from the dragons! Will you survive?"

"Hard to believe, isn't it?" Bill intervened with a delighted smile. "He even left Kara with Caldus... How was your last hunt?"

"Well, nothing to report. I've already had the artefact classified and I'll give you my report tomorrow without fail... When arrives the Weasley clan ?"

"Late afternoon. Will you have dinner with us? They'll all be delighted to see you."

She nodded her head with obvious pleasure, walked to the exit, and turned again to Charlie. 

"Welcome to Egypt!"

Anthea continued to work days after days, sharing only a few evenings with the Weasley family. No, she wasn't running away from Charlie. What idea?! 

After their last Romanian reunion, they had kept up their correspondence for a while and Charlie had invited her to join him several times. Her workload had forced her to decline once, twice, three times, and four times. After that, there was never another invitation and the witch devoted the few days of rest she had to her parents in England.

At the same time, the correspondence with Charlie had gradually become less frequent. Only one conclusion, logical and bitter, had emerged: the redhead had probably turned the page. So she had plunged headlong into her work, sometimes accepting a date that never led to anything.

Everything remained emotionally manageable until the dragonologist arrived in Luxor. His presence created a guilty uneasiness in her. Deep in her heart, Anthea knew that she hadn't made enough effort to maintain their still fragile bond, even though the sorcerer didn't seem to hold a grudge against her. In a way, it was even worse... 

She was preparing to spend an evening alone in the desert, following a habit she had developed when she felt the need to distance herself. The familiar hooting of her owl, Thetys, sounded above her, an envelope fell on the table and the bird reached its perch in a corner of the living room. Anthea opened the mail from the Gringotts headquarters in London. Her brows frowning, she read the letter. Shocked. 

She was promoted to Coordinator in Thessaloniki, Greece, and had two months from that day, 17th August 1993, to take up her post. Her forehead crumpled in incomprehension. The position was an internal application and the witch had not applied. Had Bill recommended her? If so, why didn't he tell her? 

Seeing the time, it was too late to go and confront him... So the witch decided to keep her program and she covered herself with several blankets, ready to ruminate in the depths of the Sahara.

Someone knocked on the door. The annoyance swelled her cheeks. Had the world banded together to delay her nightly plans? She put on a friendly face and opened the door. 

"Charlie?" 

He looked at her with the same wide-eyed gaze that she was staring at him.

"Oh! Sorry... Are you ill?"

Worry twisted the dragonologist's features as he mentally counted the colourful blankets that covered her. 

"Uh... No," she said with embarrassment. "I was just about to go out."  
" Wrapped up in your blankets?" he wondered suspiciously.

"Uh, yes," the young woman stammered. "I was going to spend the night in the desert. It's cold there."

"Can I come with you?"

"Hum... It's a moonless night... You won't see much...A day trip would be better…

"Take me anyway !" His arm trapped hers.

They disappeared in a dry crack and reappeared on the crest of a dune. A vast black expanse under the moonless night blended with the celestial vault on the horizon. Charlie observed the sky, studded with stars glittering like diamonds on the velvet of the night. Their number had tripled and they shone so brightly that the sorcerer could distinguish their nuances: the orange glow of Mars and Antares or the bluish glitter of Deneb. He sat on the thick and immense Berber carpet laid by Anthea -an unlikely thing from her bag- while she covered the area with protective enchantments. 

"You said I wouldn't see much? Godric! I don't think I've ever seen so many stars at the same time!" exclaimed Charlie, impressed, as she sat down beside him.

"So... Do you think there are more visible stars in the sky or freckles on your skin?"

Anthea chuckled before tilting back to lie down, spreading her blankets over her, her gaze wandering over the thousands of stars above them.

"In both cases, you wouldn't have enough of this night to count them!" he replied with humour by settling down beside her.

That said, Charlie would have loved to see her try. But such a repartee would have been unwelcome as it was the first time since his arrival that he managed to spend some time alone with her. And he had to impose himself on it!

"Here, the sky is incredibly clear, without clouds, without lampposts, and tonight, without a moon... All the conditions are there for a beautiful sky," explained the witch. 

"Just the sand, the stars and us," said Charlie with a sigh of satisfaction. 

"Yes," she smiled softly. "I often come here to think. The desert is so vast, the universe even more so. It makes you feel very small, and worries seem even smaller."

"Are you in trouble?" he asked.

"Who doesn't?"

Silence fell upon them. In the vastness of the desert, silence imposed itself as an overwhelming presence. The redhead held his breath for fear of disturbing it. The blonde was right. It made you feel really small, insignificant, almost intimidating. A long shiver ran down Charlie's spine. Anthea shared her blankets, surprisingly warm for their thickness. The redhead could feel the magic trapped in the fabric under his fingers. 

The minutes went by silently until she cut it off in a quivering voice."I'm really sorry I didn't come back to Romania."

"I know," said the redhead, groping to grasp the hand of the witch who was resting on her belly.

It was a trivial gesture. But this warm hand reassured her. It said: "I don't blame you, I understand". 

"Two thousand Miles," he said softly. "Even for dragons, that's a long-distance."

Since Charlie's arrival in Egypt, Anthea was proving to be elusive. Like the sand around them, she seemed ready to slip through his fingers, which forced the dragonologist to be cautious. However, for the first time, Charlie felt her relax as if freed from an invisible burden. 

"Speaking of dragons, you will never see the Constellation of the Dragon as well as now," she said.

The witch followed the trail with her index finger pointing to the sky. Her finger froze on one of the stars forming the reptile's tail. 

"Alpha Draconis was the pole star at the apogee of civilization which erected most of the monuments we have to excavate in our work," she explained. 

"Bill said that many Egyptian monuments were oriented on this star?" 

Anthea confirmed before evoking the mysteries hiding under the stones of the temples, those revealed by the immutable movement of the dunes at the mercy of the wind, such as the fossilized forest which appeared intermittently. With passion, she described the strangeness of the mirages or the unreal beauty of a sunrise over the ochre waves that he could observe if they stayed there until morning. Although their eyes still gazed at the sky, their conversation largely eclipsed the attraction of the stars.

Little by little, the discussion turned into confidences where the difficulties of recruiting new staff for the reserve were discussed, as well as family worries for Ginny, who had spent her first year of schooling possessed by a cursed newspaper that was gradually devouring her soul, the purpose of the trip was to strengthen the family bond to overcome the ordeal that had marked them all in different ways, Charlie and Bill's guilt at not being there, Ron's pent-up crush on his brilliant, but his frightening friend, Hermione, Percy's rigid arrogance that was stirring up tensions within the siblings...

"Enough about me!" he cut. "Tell me what's bothering you."

She exhaled a long pensive sigh, illuminating the end of her wand with a pale glow. Then the witch pricked it in the sand while sitting down. 

"I was promoted... And transferred."

The redhead observed the strictest silence while waiting for her to continue.

"I've been working hard for two years to get recognition from my peers in Luxor and just as I'm starting to make a place for myself, I'm going to have to start all over again elsewhere!"

"Recognition? But Bill keeps telling us how good you are !"

"It's Bill," she replied as if that explained everything. "If you were a woman in a men's environment, where rivalries are exacerbated -contrary to the reserve where cohesion prevails -, you would know that being gifted isn't enough to be respected... And there, I will have to impose myself immediately as a leader in front of curse breakers, much more experienced, who will see me as an enemy for the simple fact of being a woman, young moreover."

A deep aversion made her wince. 

"And pretty enough to be from a "casting couch"! Well... Just to make it clear, I never had sex with anyone to get anything... but some people will pretend the opposite."

Although he was a known, admired and respected spell-breaker in Luxor, Bill had faced certain difficulties when he was promoted to coordinators, such as insubordination, rumours, and the perpetual questioning of his decisions by the older curse breakers. So what would become of her where no one had seen her prove herself? 

"I don't understand why Bill applied for me without even telling me. He could have told me that he was considering sending me to Thessaloniki."

"In Thessaloniki, "Charlie repeated. "It's a hop, skip, and a jump from Bucharest."  
"Yes, it is in the North of Greece." 

Charlie opened his eyes in amazement at this new situation. After Anthea's first stay in Romania, he had expressed to Bill the wish to see the witch again soon. And later, after his invitations had been declined for professional reasons, he had assured his elder brother of the veracity of the motive. Not that he thought the blonde was lying, but an uncertainty had made him check. Consequently, Charlie hoped that Bill had not pushed Anthea to Thessaloniki because of him ... Even if, secretly, the redhead found this mutation unexpected... 

He opened his mouth and closed it again. Then he sat down.

"You know, I wouldn't be so far away from you anymore... We could…"

"I didn't ask for anything!" she replied in a stubborn refusal to approach the situation from a personal point of view, unlike her interlocutor who persisted.

"Yes, but that's the way it was decided... Maybe you wanted me to be the one to get closer to you?"

"Never!"

Her vehemence surprised them both. 

"Your life is with the dragons," she softens as she lays her hand on Charlie's cheek. "I would never accept you leaving them for a woman... Or a man... Especially not for me."

"That's one’s of the reasons I care so much about you," he said, his throat closed.

Where other women had tried to impose themselves in his life by trying to change him, even before knowing him, Anthea had never demanded anything more than what he was ready to offer, without ever entering into rivalry with his passion for dragons. It was rare, priceless. He grabbed her hand on his cheek and gently kissed the inside of her wrist. A shiver ran up Anthea's arm to her spine and her heart raced. 

"Honestly, I don't condone the idea of forcing you to leave your life here against your will. But my brother would never have sent you on a wild-goose chase... If Bill recommended you for this job, it's because he thinks you have the skills... Your superiors proved him right…"

When he said it, it was obvious to Charlie, without even consulting Bill, what he was saying was correct. In a gesture of affection, the young man bent down to kiss the forehead but, to his surprise, the witch turned her face to welcome the kiss with her lips. In response, he confidently explored Anthea's mouth, confident that he was welcome. The spark ignited, calling for the fusion of the bodies. 

One year without seeing each other, and it was as if they had never left each other. Charlie remembered exactly how to arouse the witch's desire, just as Anthea knew all the secrets to arouse his manhood. Under the pale glow of their wands, they were in their world rekindling the flame, in the middle of the desert with the stars as witnesses. 

Anthea probed his gaze as he pushed a strand of hair away from his face. The evening was a blessing. In the intimacy of the small gestures and confidences that bound them together and that they had missed so much, they found each other. From a kiss to kiss, their embrace grew more feverish, and their hands more daring. 

Charlie would gorge himself on her feminine perfume, from the tip of his tongue he would savour the taste of velvety skin, just as he remembered it. Suddenly, the desire to know if the taste of her sex was as good as his memory rumbled in his chest. His calloused hands left the breasts and the young woman's clothes disappeared via a spell. The surprise seized her when Anthea immediately felt a warm breath on her vulva and the cold air of the night on her naked skin. 

"Charlie!"

His lover ran his tongue along the cleft of the vulva. She shivered.

"Charlie!"

"Do you want me to stop?" he murmured, reproducing his action with deliberate slowness.

"No! Yes! Um... Stop for two minutes! I'm freezing."

Quickly, she grabbed her wand and leaned towards her besace from where she called some logs which she set ablaze with a spell of fire, after having laid them on the sand. Then she strengthened the protection spells covering the area.

"I can't believe what you're hiding in there," exclaimed the red-headed man, crestfallen, taking off his jumper.

"And you are far from having seen everything !"

Without waiting, Charlie put his mouth on femininity and tasted it greedily. He savoured the cyprine he extracted by plunging his tongue inside her. Trembling, the witch arched with pleasure and the young man closed his warm lips on the throbbing clitoris. 

"Your tongue is... Mmmmm... magical!"

Enhardied by the compliment, the redhead insinuated two fingers into her and made them come and go at a sustained rhythm by hitting precisely a sensitive point of the vagina. In this way, he brought her to the verge of orgasm before kissing her on the lips. Anthea regained the taste of her excitement on Charlie. 

"Let me suck you off," she whispers against his lips as she rubs the bulge in Charlie's crotch.

"Very tempting, but I'm not done taking care of you yet."

"I didn't say you had to stop."

Charlie was taken aback, he stood up and the mischievous glow he found in Anthea's eyes filled with desire enlightened him on her words. She sucked on the sorcerer's lower lip. 

"Take off your clothes and lie down on your side. OK?" 

He seemed to hesitate as he stripped his clothes in front of Anthea, who admired him shamelessly. He was as desirable as ever. The warm glow of the flames dancing close to them particularly flattered his muscles, his tattoo, and the copper of his loose hair. 

When you come, you often bite your lips... Will you be able to refrain from doing it if I'm in your mouth?" he asked, lying down head to toe.

"I promise!" she chuckled as she raised a solemn hand. "I'll put away my fangs!"

Anthea's cheek rested on the inside of Charlie's thigh, while she opened her legs wide to give him full access to her intimacy. She licked his testicles as well as his cock, silky, hard, and reactive, before closing her wet lips on the oozing glans and he let his tongue dance on the glistening vulva. 

Gradually she swallowed the length, her tongue exciting every inch as she stroked the testicles with her fingertips. Little by little, she found her rhythm, a skilful hand ensuring the continuity of the fellatio, while he sucked her clitoris with two fingers exploring her vagina. Instinctively, their bodies undulated in a silent call for more pleasure. 

Anthea was close to her zenith and the redhead was not far behind her in his ascent of pleasure. The flowing femininity squeezed Charlie's fingers, in the tension announcing orgasm. The young man intensified the caresses and with one hand on his buttocks, he pressed the femininity against his mouth to reap the pleasure at its source. Anthea's cries were muffled by the tail, which reached down to her throat, creating a delicious vibration that made him moan. After the first waves of her orgasm, the witch hollowed out her cheeks and worked hard, skilfully pressing Charlie's perineum to take him to ecstasy. A long shiver ran down her lover's spine, which emptied itself in jerks and jerks in the greedy mouth. 

He drew the young woman to him and plunged his tongue into her half-opened mouth, mixing their essences and breaths. The enthusiasm of her response to the kiss made him growl with pleasure. Suddenly, he pressed her on her stomach and crushed her with his weight. Surprised, Anthea hiccupped as he pulled her hair apart to nibble at the back of her neck, leaving a furrow of burning kisses along her spine and then on her buttocks. The desire was felt in the intimate folds of Anthea's body. 

"Arch yourself, please"

The Charlie's muscular body above Anthea, the erection aligned with the femininity thus exposed. The redhead penetrated her with a slow thrust, biting her ear and whispering that he had wanted her for too long, his whole body offering a long languorous caress to his lover's body. Charlie's weight undulating over her, far from crushing her, wrapped her in a cocoon of affection that embraced her more tightly when his hand slipped under her to touch her breasts. 

Contracting his body so as not to overwhelm her, Charlie increased his ardour and Anthea played with her hips, moaning lascivious encouragements. She could no longer perceive anything but Charlie, his mouth, his breath, his body, his caresses, his spring smell, and a frustrating pleasure, too good to be interrupted but not enough to make her capsize. 

"Need more?" He asked.

A "Yes!" was fired, impatient and direct. 

As she presented him with the reddened rump from his previous comings and goings, he suddenly filled the damp heat of her femininity with a cry of pleasure... Grasping her hips, Charlie possessed the four-legged young woman mightily, he released his usually suppressed instincts. Drunk with pleasure, Anthea took his hip blows, absorbing the power of his letting go without worrying about the marks he would leave on her skin. Soon, the lover was shaking with violent shivers of ecstasy and Charlie accompanied her to her last spasms, before he cumed deep inside her with a hoarse cry of triumph.

Trembling and soft as a rag doll, Anthea slumped down, dragging her lover along, who wrapped her in a tender, warm embrace that contrasted with the frenzy of their passionate frolics. 

"Are you all right?" he asked, pulling the covers over them.

"Yes, keep me a little against you."

"As many as you want."

They remained thus, motionless and fulfilled, the time necessary for them to come down from their voluptuous cloud.

Have you had other lovers?" he asked a little later as he got dressed.

"Are you going to ask me this question every time we will have sex ?"

"Yes," he replied bluntly.

"What about you?" She scrutinized him, implacably waiting for his answer. He surrendered without a fight. 

"Not many... None that matters…"

In exchange, he got the expected response in a negative rumble, full of frustration, which filled him with joy. They hadn't promised each other anything, so if the blonde hadn't had an adventure in a year, it wasn't out of moral obligation or lack of opportunity, but out of personal choice. Suspecting that he was the cause, Charlie drew a certain emotion from it, which was difficult to conceal. 

But the expression of his satisfaction was not to the taste of his interlocutor who shot him in the eye. Merlin! Were the glowing embers in her eyes hers or the reflection of the campfire?

"I am delighted that my emotional and sexual desert delights you, but take that smug look off your face, will you?"

"I don't look pretentious... I'm just happy."

"Happy ?" Said she again, raising a circumspect eyebrow. 

He nodded. She folded her arms across her chest and her frank gaze suddenly shifted to Charlie's placid gaze. 

"What are you happy about? That I didn't make you any promises but that I am unable to take advantage of this freedom because, when I compare my... "suitors" to you, they never have the advantage? That I can only accept your hands on my skin, while theirs are infinitely softer than yours? To be as present in my thoughts as the dragons are in yours? Or are you happy that you don't have to make any effort to make me love you?"

A shiver cut off the improvised confession. Because of the cold or because of the emotion? Charlie wouldn't have known to say it. A soft torpor prevented him from thinking. Anthea loved him ?! 

The witch turned away from him to rekindle the dying fire. 

"Besides, between us, that's the height of injustice! she continued."

Expecting nothing from Charlie, lifting the veil on her feelings had relieved Anthea. At peace with herself, the witch wrapped herself in a blanket and her pensive gaze was lost in the agitation of the crackling flames. 

"I've just revealed things out loud that I didn't even dare to admit in thought," she smiled peacefully. "So, please... do me a favour: don't say anything."

"Huh? But... Um... Why are you telling me all this, then? What do you expect me to do?" stammered the redhead.

She smiled tenderly at him.

"Nothing... You will have to live with it and I'll do the same."

The repartee made him puff out of disbelief. Charlie nervously ruffled his hair. What could he do? The discussion couldn’t end like that?! Finally, the dragonologist stuck to the witch's back, one arm wrapped around her waist, the other around her chest, chin resting on her shoulder.

"I'm far from being an expert but normally, confessing one's love to someone implies the hope of a reciprocal answer. But you, you throw your feelings in my face without expecting anything in return. Worse! You're asking me to keep mine quiet... But there are some things I'd like to say to you too."

The sudden acceleration of Anthea's pulse under his palm made him smile. A tender kiss on the neck and he continued in a playful tone. 

"And you said that I didn't do anything like everyone else?! Let me tell you that it's really the cauldron that doesn't give a damn about the cooking pot !"

Xxxx❤xxx❤xxx❤xxxX

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do you remember the money won in the lottery by Arthur Weasley and who made this stay in Egypt possible?
> 
> Thanks for reading.


	7. Injuries

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Novembre 1993:**  
>  The mating of two Hungarian Horntails turns into a drama.

Xxxx❤xxx❤xxx❤xxxX

One last time, Anthea checked the parchment she had just written one before signing it. Her gaze fell on one of the photos on her desk. It had been taken on the initiative of her brother, Jacob, on the day of her arrival in Thessaloniki in front of the entrance to the Gringotts branch where she was working now. Bill Weasley, her mentor, and surrogate brother was on the left. In the centre, the tanned features of Jacob, a freelance spell-breaker, cracked with a joyful smile. And on the right, Charlie was giving her a mysterious wink of complicity from one who shared a secret known only to them. Was he thinking of that night in the desert that they had never evoked again as if it had been nothing but a forgotten mirage of the spirit whose indelible memory was jealously guarded only by silent hearts? 

The singing of the clock informed her that it was time to go away for the weekend, the third since her taking office in mid-October. As expected, Anthea's arrival as a supervisor had been greeted with defiance by most of the spell-breakers. She spent the first three weeks adapting to her predecessor's system while having individual interviews with each spell-breaker she supervised. 

Some had immediately accepted her, but the majority had approached her in a paternalistic way, putting forward their age or experience, to reverse the relationship of authority. Some had tried to seduce her to obtain favours, while others had indirectly made her clear that she would only gain their respect after proving her worth. A brilliantly won exhibition duel won the esteem of the latter. The blonde had 9expected worse.

She was crossing the marble-covered hall to get out when a male voice called out to her. The witch turned around. A man with thick brown hair framing his face rushed towards her. He was tall, neither young nor old, but with the hollowed-out features of an experienced man. Rumour had it that he was a former servant of Voldemort and that he hid the cursed mark under the bandages around his forearms. He too had suffered from prejudice. This was probably the main reason for his immediate cordiality towards the blonde.

"What can I do for you, Sokkar? The week is over, you know?" she smiled.

"Forgive me, Miss Anthea... Can you sign this temporary authorisation for access to the storeroom? I need access to an artefact with properties similar to a trap in the labyrinth."

"Yes," she replied, signing the form after quick proofreading with her self-inking quill. "You are working on the "Fabulaservus", right? What do you think it's for? The writings I've read so far are so vague about it."

"Thank you," he said as he retrieves the duly signed document. "Miss…"

"Anthea," corrected the spell-breaker. "Simply, Anthea, please."

"Oh! Good! Anthea," he resumed with the ease of one who was only waiting to do without the formalities, "I imagine you have hardly had time to visit the city. May I invite you to have a drink in Ladadika? It's the liveliest district in the city," he explained, perceiving the young woman's mute question. "We could talk more about the "Fabulaservus" if you want."

The charming intonation of his voice left little room for interpretation. He liked Anthea and he established a relationship of seduction. Flattered in spite of herself, the blonde wasn’t experienced enough in this field to hold back the redness on her cheeks. 

"Thank you, but…"

"Nothing will happen that you don't want to happen," he assured by making a cross on his chest with his index finger. 

"I'm sorry, Sokkar, I'm expected... Have a good weekend!" she said before running away as quickly as her legs allowed it.

Xxxx❤xxx❤xxx❤xxxX

After passing the usual security check allowing her to enter the reserve, Anthea was accompanied to Charlie's house. She knocked and immediately the door wide opened. Charlie pulled her by the arm and pulled her into a torrid kiss that shook her down to her crotch and made her legs wobble. 

"Wow! What a welcome! Do you have something to make up for?"

"Yes, I have a behavioural study to finish as soon as possible," he said with a sorry grimace twisting his features. "The evening will be seriously compromised. Sorry, but come on!"

He rushed to his room, dragging his companion by the hand. She dropped her bag on the way. Charlie was going so fast that she almost missed a step and finish her climb on all fours. 

"Hey, Charlie, wait a second," she protested, laughing. 

Once in his room, Charlie kissed Anthea again with passion before pressing his forehead against hers, panting.

"I've got something for you…"

He went to the chest of drawers and opened the first drawer, apparently empty.

"You offer me... a drawer?" she exclaimed with amusement. "What romanticism !"

"What? This drawer is already bigger than your cupboard at Hogwarts."

"We didn't have a wardrobe at Hogwarts. Just a chest of drawers!"

"That's what I'm saying! " he replied sarcastically.

Touched by this gift, more eloquent than any word, the witch's heart beated quickly. Charlie left her a place in his life, among the dragons he loved so much. It was very moving! With her eyes welded to the redhead's, she unbuttoned one by one the buttons of her blouse. 

Dry, Charlie's mouth opened and closed, like a carp out of water. Despite him, the desire proudly stood up in his trousers. He swallowed as the young woman in the bra approached with her blouse in her hand. Her arm rose conspicuously and let the garment fall into the drawer, her mutinous expression seducing the dragonologist, who instinctively wet his lips. She captured them and sucked his tongue greedily.

"Gift accepted. Thank you."

He displayed a sulky pout.

"If you had bothered to look, you would have seen what was inside," he moans, dejected, spreading the blouse apart to reveal an envelope.

The witch was taken aback and carefully opened it. Then, she dropped in her hand the two objects that were inside: a badge of a resident of the Reserve, allowing her to enter and leave freely from this so preserved space, and a key. The witch stared at Charlie without understanding. He rolled his eyes to the sky and sighed. 

"You have to go through the house door to get to your drawer."

"Um... I... You…"

"There's nothing to say, just to accept," he said softly with a smile, by noting her lack of words.

A languid kiss sealed this new chapter in their relationship. Then Charlie's mouth left the witch's lips to draw a line of kisses along her neck. He slid the bra strap over her shoulder to continue his kissing path. The delicate hand ruffling his red hair slipped over the nape of his neck to untie his catogan, and the other slipped under his clothes. Three loud knocks rang out the door. 

"That's Caldus! I'm going to see what he wants," sighed the redhead as he readjusted his trousers, he briefly kissed Anthea. "I'll be right back." 

The blonde watched him walk out of the room and jumped on the bed to wait for him in a most enticing position, determined to finish what they had started before he finished his paperwork. Charlie wasn't surprised to see his team leader behind the door.

"Gedeon's team needs reinforcements. Are you still volunteering?"

" For the mating of Hungarian Horntail ?"

"Yeah. It's going to get ugly! "Madam" refuses the male!" 

The redhead stretched out his arm to the hooks to grab his jacket.

"Okay."

"Warn your curse breaker that you are going away."

"How do you know that...?" asked the young dragonologist to his mentor, discreetly checking his trousers before informing Anthea of his departure by shouting from the door.

"Your pupils," laconically inform the blond with the intense polar gaze.

During this time, Anthea buried her head in a pillow with frustration, before filled the drawer and dined with Kara, the miniature Opaleye. Then, she went to bed with a book.

Xxxx❤xxx❤xxx❤xxxX

A sound of broken glass and an angry curse woke her up. She found Charlie in the bathroom, leaning against the sink, struggling with his bloody, burnt clothes. Anthea's blood froze. Charlie's dark and tired face lit up with a pale smile of apology. He was sorely tried, and it wasn't just physical.

"Damn it! You're covered in blood!"

"It's not mine," he reassured.

Without thinking, Anthea stepped over the broken glass, cleaned up the damage with a wand and inspected the burns on his arms and legs before rummaging through the medicine cabinet, very little provided. In a way, taking care of him, touching him, fulfilled her irrepressible need to know he was alive, in one piece.

"Don't you have any essence of dittany? Murlap essence? Wiggenweld potion?"

"It was the essence of dittany," he replied, blushing with embarrassment, his eyes glued to the bin. "And no other potions."

The blisters sprinkled on his fingers had disturbed their sensibility, hence his clumsiness. A spell of attraction brought her her own bottle, as well as a healing potion. Regularly on the move, the witch always carried a healing kit with her, just in case. 

"Get all the material to take care of yourself," she said in a peremptory tone as she watches the skin reconstitute itself under the effect of the essence of dittany poured on the raw tissues. "A poorly treated wound can cause after-effects that can prevent you from living your dream!"

Charlie grunted, he hadn’t ready to endure her reprimands. She turned on the shower. Then, Anthea helped the dragonologist undress while admiring his resistance to pain. She inspected the bruises on his body, his scorched hairs, and removed the few scraps of clothing stuck to his flesh, while he explained the reasons for his condition.

During a mating attempt of two Hungarian Horntails, the female had violently rejected the male during his courtship. And a fight had broken out between the two creatures, forcing the dragonologists to intervene to prevent them from killing each other. Charlie had come as a reinforcement with other colleagues. This confrontation had caused a lot of collateral damage. Other employees were at the clinic, including a seriously injured woman with a life-threatening condition. 

"Why didn't you go to the clinic to get treatment?"

"As long as the burns are painful and not very extensive, the essence of dittany is sufficient to treat them. Only those that are painless, or almost painless, require the expertise of healers."

"Okay… A shower and I'll apply the ointment you sent Penny."

Charlie went into the shower and Anthea undressed to follow him. 

"What... what are you do... doing?" He stuttered.

"You move with the ease of a paralyzed old man! I will help you."

The witch let the lukewarm water from the shower's head gently trickle down on the skin that had suffered from the dragon's fires, while carefully washing the young man's bruised body. The effects of the Wiggenweld potion being progressive, he would be marked for a few hours. Quietly, Charlie let her do it, the film of the evening taking place under his closed eyelids. Once clean, she wrapped herself in a towel and dried the sorcerer by dabbing his skin, without creating the slightest friction.

"Do you feel a little better?" she asked solicitously.

The sorcerer nodded. He had never felt so pampered as when Antea gently washed his bruised body. This intimacy, full of solicitude, was comforting. The redhead begged for her lips and pressed himself against her. The spell-breaker moved back to avoid contact and stumbled over the sink. Although Charlie's burns seemed to have healed, they remained sensitive while waiting for the complete regeneration of the dermis.

"You're going to hurt yourself," she whispered between kisses.

"Let me come into you," he prayed, removing the towel enclosing the curves he so longed to caress. 

It was an impulse aiming at the triumph of his life after having been so close to losing it, a compelling need to reassure himself about his existence, or the need to release stress, in every sense of the word. The witch had understood this. Charlie's tongue searched Anthea's mouth, just as his hardened cock searched the folds of her intimacy with a few hip movements, to find the appeasement he was longing for. Leaning on the washbasin, Anthea opened herself entirely to the sorcerer...

After a moment of panting frenzy, Charlie grunted a guttural sound, his teeth stuck in the hollow of the blonde's shoulder, pouring into the bottom of her. Then, without releasing his embrace, he stopped. Empty and soothed. 

You didn't come," he said flatly.

"It isn't necessary every time," she blushed as she kissed him.

"Yes, but…"

"It's okay," she whispered. "You needed an outlet." 

Upset, Charlie frowned as she bent down to pick up her towel and wrap it around her again.

"You aren’t an outlet," he said as he brings his hand close to her femininity to satisfy her in another way. "Never!"

The tone was without appeal, the face impenetrable as a stone, but the gesture delicate. Anthea wisely opted for silence, waving the ointment that still had to be applied under Charlie's nose. He sighed, removing his fingers to give way to her good care.

"With all the safety measures you follow, I’m surprised that such a serious accident could have happened."

Our protocols are based on our knowledge of dragons. They are readjusted according to our experience with them. Normally, the flames of a Hungarian Horntail have a maximum range of thirty-three feet. The strongest ones can reach up to thirty-nine feet, but this is extremely rare... Godric! This furious dragon has spit fire at more than fifty feet! No one could have predicted this!"

Despite the unfortunate consequences, a certain admiration for the fearsome creature pierced the knot of emotion in Charlie's voice. 

Talking, putting words to events made him realise how close death had come to him. If Caldus hadn’t cast a spell outside the trajectory of the first blaze, he would probably be in a bed next to Evelyn. The "Viking", as Anthea called him, had reacted effectively with frightening swiftness. In their trade, one should never take anything for granted. And despite the promptings of his years of experience, Caldus' vigilance never wavered.

"The seriously wounded woman... Is she a friend?" she asked, gently massaging the reddened right hand, with some blisters.

"She’s the mother of Pedro's daughter."

"Pedro has a daughter?" she said, closing the ointment jar. "Finished."

"Thank you... Masha, four years old... And a half! The "and a half" is very important at her age" he smiled as he leads her to the room because "no, he wasn't hungry!". "Her parents separated when she was one year old."

Pedro and Evelyn had loved each other passionately. With the unconsciousness of their young age, they had thought their couple solid. They had welcomed Evelyn's pregnancy with happiness, considering this child as the consecration of their relationship. But they had not succeeded in adapting to their new role by continuing to exist as a couple and as parents. Irreconcilable differences had led to their rupture, with an equitable sharing of the custody of their daughter whom they loved above all.

"You talk about it like it's…

"A known situation?" he smiled as he tenderly embraces the head resting on his tattooed dragon. "This is partly my parents' experience. Bill's birth at such a young age put a strain on their hasty marriage. Mum always said that I was the child who sealed their reconciliation."

"So much power in a simple baby," she whispered so as not to eclipse the steady sound of the peaceful heart beating against her ear. "Do you think that's why you and Bill are so close? Because he witnessed how your birth has reunited your family?"

"He was two years old when I was born. I doubt he has any memories of that time."

"Some things are engraved in the unconscious. When he was six months old, my mother pinched Jacob hard with a nail clipper. Even today he still has a deep aversion to anything to do with manicures. Yet he doesn't remember the incident."

The redhead made a doubtful pout. Special complicity had always united him with Bill, more than with any other of his brothers. Charlie had always thought that their small age difference allowed them to share more things, including sibling responsibilities. But Anthea's insights were also relevant. 

Xxxx❤xxx❤xxx❤xxxX

All employees involved in the previous day's incidents had been put on rest to dress their wounds and recondition their minds. All had risked their lives and had seen a comrade being struck by the destructive fury of a dragon. She was still fighting for her life on her hospital bed. These were not images from which one could easily recover.

Charlie was misleading the concern for his colleague by focusing on the behavioural study he had to finish. Dragons had always been an effective distraction. Meanwhile, Anthea was working on allocating the next quests according to the profile of her subordinates. The witch applied herself to this task and took her time. In her profession and position, taking the time was always preferable to take misstep.

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!

The young woman was startled and pointed her wand to the door, defensively. The power of the blows had shook the thin windows of the house and resounded with the violence of cannon fire. She looked at the red-haired man who had dropped his quill, his face twisted by an unknown pain. 

"Charlie?"

Finally understanding the absence of immediate danger, the curse-breaker released the breath she had unconsciously held. A nameless sadness pervaded the atmosphere, forcing her to breathe it in to suffocate her whole being. She moved closer to Charlie. He placed her on his lap, and he nestled against her. 

"Evelyn is dead."

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**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the reading !  
> 


	8. Children

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Novembre 1993:**  
>  Following the death of Evelyn, Charlie's best friend leaves the Dragon Reserve. A painful reflection follows for Charlie.

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The death of a young person was always seen as an injustice. The death of a mother with a young child was an even more difficult tragedy to accept. 

This unknown that Anthea discovered through the grief caused by her death, and for which the spell-breaker had shed tears, had left too early, too young. The witch tried to make herself useful, without interfering with the community of the Reserve, which had been hit hard by this tragedy. Pedro was completely devastated. Overwhelmed by grief, the dark-haired man was unable to help his daughter face her own. So, Anthea spent time with Masha, while Oriana and Charlie tried to bring comfort to the father and helped with the various preparations for his ex-girlfriend's funeral.

To her great astonishment, the little girl readily accepted the presence of Anthea. According to Charlie, the child felt that her surroundings were too fragile and that she had naturally turned to a less impacted, more emotionally solid, and therefore more reassuring presence. Seeing five siblings grow up, combined with his innate caring, had given Charlie a natural understanding of children.

Caldus spoke little. He silently watched over his subordinates with respectful distance. Present, without being invasive. 

After Evelyn's funeral, Pedro assembled his closest friends for an announcement. Anthea watched Masha drawing Kara. With her pearly scales and rainbow eyes, the creature created enchantment in the mind of the little girl, otherwise overwhelmed by the loss of her mother. 

After thanking his friends for their support, Pedro said: "I handed in my resignation this morning to the administrative services. I am leaving the reserve."

The announcement had the effect of a thunderclap. Several voices were raised in amazement. Pedro was a passionate man -passion was necessary to last in a low-paid, difficult and dangerous job-. He was offered help with his daughter's education. He was asked questions about his future, about the future organisation of his life. Nothing made him waver. 

"With Evelyn, we had agreed that if one of us disappeared, the other would make Masha his priority and would leave for reconversion in a less dangerous sector."

"But what are you going to do then? asked Charlie."

His clenched fists betrayed his emotion. Bound by their common passion, Pedro was a close friend, the first one with whom the redhead had bonded and the best. To see him leave in these conditions was heartbreaking. 

"I'm going to stay for a while at my parents' house to think about it. "

During the three weeks following Pedro's departure, Anthea tried to come back as often as possible, even if it meant bringing back work from Charlie's house. Deeply affected, he maintained himself in a behavioural paradox where he sought the physical proximity of the witch while distancing himself emotionally from her. His vague gaze often wandered on her, in marasmus of thoughts that he did not deign to share. The witch did not know what to do about the situation. Despite her patience, her heart tightened. Charlie was moving away from her.

Also, when the goblin holding the reception desk of the branch of Thessaloniki entered her office one evening to announce the arrival of "Mr Weasley", Anthea remained speechless with amazement. Or fright. She took a look at Sokkar, who had come to inform her urgently of the failure of his quest, the treasures are hidden in the explored labyrinth having already been taken, including the Fabulaservus. 

The dragonologist entered. In casual attire, Charlie Weasley contrasted with this environment of high ceilings, elegant white marble mouldings and silky lights. The wild and fickle nature, not the one made for postcards, suited more his physiognomy of muscles, chiselled features, freckles and scars. 

Sokkar took a look at a photo on the desk and compared it with the young man with the serious face who had just come in. He rose enthusiastically to greet him.

Hello! I am Sokkar Osmani, a curse breaker," he said, shaking his hand warmly. You must be Charlie Weasley, the dragonologist? 

Anthea frowned as the redheaded man, tense, politely returned his greeting. Since her arrival, she had never communicated any private information. How did Sokkar know this? 

"Do you work at the Romanian Dragon Reserve? I have always dreamed of visiting it... How many dragons do you have in total? And do you breed baby dragons too? Is it true that Romanian Longhorn skewers their prey on their horns before roasting them like skewers? Does Swedich Short-Snout eat their meat raw because their flames are so hot that they reduce everything to ashes? Are Ukrainian Ironbelly so big that they can crush a building?"

"Charlie is a veritable well of knowledge. If you're looking for information about dragons, he's the perfect person to talk to!" exclaimed the spell-breaker, but a glance at Charlie prompted her to cut the exchange short. "We'll resume tomorrow morning, Sokkar. And please write your report as soon as possible." 

Wanting to talk to Charlie again, the man turned to her in a silent plea. The young woman remained inflexible in her posture. Sokkar capituled, taking his documents and took his leave, having wrenched from Charlie the promise to show him the reserve soon. Once he left, the witch fell back into her desk chair. 

"I thought that Sokkar was flirting with me… But I wonder if it wasn't to get closer to you?" she joked, notwithstanding the rigidity of her companion.

The red-haired man had a brief movement of retreat and confusion before regaining his composure. 

"We must speak," announced the red-headed man in a more gruff tone than he would have liked.

The witch's face closed. With a gesture of her hand, she invited the redhead to sit down and took out two glasses and a bottle of firewhisky from a drawer in the desk. When they were served, she handed one to Charlie. 

"I guess it's important because you didn't wait until the weekend."

"Yes."

The impassive distance of the last few days, the tension that oozed out of him, the fact that he hadn't tried to get closer to her since his arrival... He hadn't even kissed her, damn it! Anthea was mentally preparing herself for the worst. 

"Uh... I don't know where to start..."

The spell-breaker refused to make it easy for him. She could hardly contain the emotions roaring in her chest like a caged beast. She swirled the amber liquid in her glass and swallowed it in one gulp. Charlie imitated her.

"Do you need another drink to strengthen your failing courage or are you finally going to tell me what brings you here? "

The expression was harsh, the voice sharp.

"It's okay. Thank you... Well, I don't know if there is a better way to say this but... "His features become fixed in a resolute expression." I don't want children! Not now. Not later."

The white. 

A brick had just fallen on Anthea's head to knock her out! Merlin! She was far from expecting it! Nevertheless, she tried to keep a marble face. The subject was important for Charlie to come and find her without delay. 

"Uh... Okay... Um... Can you tell me why?" she asked cautiously.

"Do you want some?"

She blushed with embarrassment... or pleasure. Was he insinuating that if he wanted to start a family, it would be with her?

"I don't know... I'm only twenty!"

"My mother had already given birth to Bill when she was our age." 

"It's not comparable and you know it. "

Charlie's parents had married in the rush of a future threatened by He Whose Name Must Not Be Spoken, and Bill's birth had followed soon after. 

"I need to understand. Why are you telling me this now? And I thought you loved children? Maybe you say that today and..."

"I love the ghoul of Burrow, but that doesn't mean I want one in my house... Hum," he thinks as he caresses the arch of his jaw. "Bad example! Forget it."

Charlie led a life full of danger, and he fully accepted the risks in the name of his devouring passion for dragons. But how could he impose them on a being who was, by definition, dependent on his parents? The risk of leaving a child an orphan was unbearable for him. The risk of being a ball and chain on his kid's ankle, if Charlie ended up crippled, was just as unbearable. What's more, a child demanded time and attention daily, two things that Charlie could never provide in sufficient quantity without sacrificing a part of his dream that he wasn't willing to give up.

Pedro's situation had led him to a painful reflection: in the same situation, he didn't know anything about his ability to choose his child over the dragons. To admit this truth without any blush was terrible for him. Talking about it, too. So the redhead preferred to counter this Cornelian dilemma "his child or the dream of his life?" by extinguishing all desire for paternity.

A reflective silence greeted his confession. Charlie was uncompromising when it came to governing his life. How many people could boast of leading their lives without submitting to outside influences? How many dreamed of an ideal without having the guts to make the difficult choices necessary to achieve it?  
For Anthea, this relentless determination aroused admiration and respect. 

Charlie hesitated and asked the question that was tapping him.

"Do you... Do you think it's selfish? "

He was talking to the confidante as well as the girlfriend.

"No... Not wanting a child is no more selfish than wanting one, I think," she reassured with a tone softer than velvet. "Personally, I have no desire for a child today, I don't know what it will be later. But to be honest, I've never thought about that sort of thing."

"Never? "

He was dumbfounded to see the blonde shaking her head negatively. 

"You never imagined yourself later? I thought it was something every girl did! Ginny tells us about her adult life, married to Harry Potter with three kids since she was... eight years old?"

A note of bitterness stretched the lips of the spell-breaker.

"I was too busy trying to reunite the family I already had, to dream of the one I could found. And then, after trying so hard, I thought that "R" would succeed in killing me," she confessed, wrapping an arm around the opposite shoulder in a gesture of self-comfort. So I've never projected myself so far..."

The sorcerer grimaced at this reminiscence of a painful past. At the time, they already shared a deep bond, but the redhead was just a teenager obsessed with dragons and quidditch, well-intentioned but not always relevant. At times, he could clearly perceive the distress that crushed Anthea and lent him his shoulder in support. Sometimes, it was only an impenetrable nebula where his will to help went astray and fell off the map.

"Whatever it is," she resumed without letting herself get down, "I am relieved... When I saw you come as tense and distant, I was afraid you had come to break up with me!"

A pinch of tight lips alarma Anthea. 

"You had considered it," she understood in a white voice. 

This time, Charlie's eyes wavered and the blonde went pale. 

"Yes," he confessed, "for I am aware that I am asking a lot of you without offering much in return. And it's not fair to you."

Anthea stood up, walked around the desk and sat across Charlie's lap, wrapping her arms around his neck as he tied his arms around her waist. 

"But it's not for me to decide whether I deserve you or not," he continued resolutely. "It's up to you to choose."

"It's reassuring to see that you understood it without me having to explain it to you! What an intelligent man!"

An amused smile danced on the dragonologist's lips.

"I already knew I wasn't a fool, but thank you!"

The witch's discreet laughter died down slowly. 

"You know, I meant what I said in the desert," she continued, caressing the sorcerer's rough cheek. "I love you, Charlie."

"I love you too." 

Tenderly, he offered her a chaste kiss. 

"It didn’t come right away," he murmured again didn't her lips. "It grew over time and through the trials, we went through together, without me realising it. I've learned to appreciate every facet of your personality until the day our goals separated us. You in Egypt, me in Romania... And that's when I realised: I missed you too much to feel only friendly. I loved you and your first stay confirmed it. We were separated for months before we met again. Several times. Even a year without seeing you wasn't enough, I still loved you..."

Warm lips pressed his mouth, making him sigh with a happiness that he tasted with confidence from the tip of his tongue. With his heart lightened by his feelings finally released, Charlie let the euphoria sparkle in his veins. Everyday dragons, a woman to love... For the time being, he was fulfilled.

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**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A few chapters for us, almost two years for them...  
> They confessed their love...💜 At last !  
> 


	9. Annoyed/ Sokkar and Percy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **December 1993 :**  
>  Two scenes, two sources of annoyance.

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"That's for me?" smiled Charlie after taking off his lover's jumper dress.

Leaning against the table, Anthea wore nothing but seductive lingerie at an indecent price, irresistibly attracting the dragonologist's greedy gaze. Little golden dragons were moving on the dark satin serving as a case for her breasts. Curious, Charlie followed the path of one of them with his finger and made the witch shudder.

"If you can conquer their territory," said the witch mischievously as she discovered her lover's torso before sitting down on the table. 

Regularly evolving in the Muggle world, the witch rarely wore magical clothes for the sake of discretion. However, Anthea had made an exception for Charlie's birthday, twenty-one years old on this 12th December 1993. An exception to be reiterated, in view of the enthusiasm of the redhead, whose conquering lips led the assault on her cleavage with obvious pleasure. 

"I thought I had already conquered you,"

Although prisoner of his trousers, his sex full of desire attacked the heart of Anthea's femininity with a few thrusts of the hips. 

"You know what they say... Life is an eternal beginning again... It comes... It goes," she breathed, following the rhythm of the undulations of his pelvis. 

The redhead's greedy tongue plunged into the mouth of her sweetheart, whose hands redrew a broad and powerful torso. Then, he knelt in front of her, opened her legs and covered the satin triangle with kisses. She moaned as she ruffled his red hair.

"It's your birthday, and I'm the one who gets a present?" 

The dragonologist released the throbbing flesh he was sucking through the cloth, his fingers slipped under the panties and he raised his head for eye contact.

"A question of perspective... For me, when you cum under my lips, it’s you who offers and I who receives."

A few chosen words, a languorous look and she was getting wetter! 

Suddenly, the throat-clearing of a third person on the sofa resounded through the room. In a flash, two successive spells cast by Anthea crashed on a solid magic shield, while Charlie leapt to his feet, casting a protective spell between them and the intruder sitting on the sofa who raised his hands in a sign of surrender.

"She's fast," thought Charlie. 

"I'm sorry... But I had to show myself before it got too embarrassing," a familiar face of Anthea piteously apologized.

"Turn around Sokkar!" the woman shouted, redder and angrier than a Chinese Fireball. "What the hell are you doing here?" she asked, getting dressed again behind Charlie.

"Uh... Mr Weasley had promised to show me around the reserve and I had some free time so..."  
"How did you get in?" Charlie scolded, always on the alert.

"I told the guards I was with Anthea so they brought me here and ordered me to wait," he explained in apparent good faith.

"And you just barge in like that? Because you have free time, you assume I'm willing to receive you?" hammered the redhead, intractable. 

Anthea was so furious that her mouth could only have spat out evil spells. They had just returned from Charlie's birthday party which had been punctuated with sparks of desire waiting only for the privacy of the house to ignite. And not content to just turn up unexpectedly to ruin their plans, Sokkar hadn't shown up as soon as they entered the house. 

"It was a stupid impulse... I'm sorry. I didn't expect to surprise you in such a private moment... You didn't look so close when I saw you!"

"We've been here for fifteen minutes!" she roared, her wand threatening. "And you're only announcing yourself now? Why are you announcing yourselves only now? A good story to tell at the office on Monday? You deserve that I take you to see a dragon's mouth up close!"

"Spell-breaker meat is excluded from their diet,"," grumbled the redhead, "so what do we do?"

"Do what you want! You promised him a visit. Your promise ! Your house! Your burden!" she said as she climbed the stairs. 

Charlie winced, told Sokkar where the bathroom and toilets were and, he gave him a blanket. 

"She's very angry," said the sandy brown-haired man, dejected.

"It's not as if you've just intruded on our privacy," Charlie said bitingly. "Seriously, what did you expect? She's not your girlfriend, she's your direct supervisor!"

"I'm sorry. I will do whatever it takes to make it up to you. I promise on my wand!"

Charlie raised an eyebrow. This man was older, without being able to give him one, and probably stronger than his dry appearance made him look. He was puzzled by his contrition.

"Save your promises for those who will believe them," grunted the redhead again.

"Very well," bowed the spell breaker. "You know, I was just looking forward to seeing dragons in their natural habitat... I... Sorry! I'm really sorry."

"Good night!"

In a resigned sigh, Charlie interrupted the climb up the stairs, cursing his tender heart.

"Tomorrow, be ready for ten o'clock."

This man aroused in Charlie an ambivalence of feelings. Sokkar had annoyed him by imposing himself in his house without prior notice. And then, why hadn't he shown up as soon as they arrived? Out of voyeurism or for the pleasure of embarrassing Anthea?

But his anger was also directed at the guards who had left him unattended at home, under the pretext that he had mentioned Anthea. And this, despite all the security rules in force in the reserve. 

However, Sokkar had also struck a chord that convinced the redhead to ask permission to bring a visitor closer to the winged creatures. His interest in dragons was genuine!

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The weeks which followed this unexpected visit took place in the joyful effervescence of December. Then the months passed, the couple divided their time between Greece and Romania. Anthea had also visited London for meetings at the Gringotts headquarters, the bank of sorcerers run by Goblins. She had met Bill there with pleasure. 

This time the goblins were restless. Known for their talent as goldsmiths, they were often called upon for special requests. Indeed, only they knew the secret of giving the metal inalienable magical properties, such as Gryffindor's sword capable of absorbing anything that could strengthen it.

By dint of being close to them, Bill and Anthea managed to understand a few fragments of their language made of squeaks and guttural sounds, while showing themselves to be perfectly incapable of pronouncing the slightest word of it. Finally, they understood that a problem related to an order from the Ministry was the cause of their depart from Gringotts earlier than expected. 

Thus, on this weekend of July 1994, Anthea returned early to Charlie's home... Over the months, the witch had come to consider this house in the Carpathian mountains, surrounded by dozens of dragons spread over two hundred kilometres, as her home. She felt good and safe there, despite the incident with Sokkar a few months before. A haven of peace that she would momentarily leave to return to England to attend the Quidditch World Cup. The couple wished to use this huge party to meet their friends and formalize their relationship. First, with Bill and Jacob. Then, with their friends. 

A smile was born on her lips as she thought of last Christmas when, without consulting each other, they had offered each other tickets to follow the English team's route at the Quidditch World cup. The amusement had turned into emotion as they realized that they had given each other the most precious thing they had because it was not something you could buy: time together. Enough time to create good memories together. 

She entered. Charlie was talking to a man with red hair. He was tall, thin, straight as Justice, with a strict suit and his hair carefully trimmed, contrasting with Charlie's unruly hair. 

"Percy?!"

Frightened, Charlie was staring at her, his eyes wide open. Percy proudly bulged his chest as he approached to greet her while blaming her for her lack of manners as she returned to his brother's house without knocking. 

Embarrassment swelled the witch's rosy cheeks as she searched for the right attitude to adopt in Charlie's freckles. Charlie begged her in silence. Percy must not have known! Anthea's brain turned at full throttle to maintain their original plans. 

"Well... One of the guards told me that Charlie was busy... With people from the Ministry and he accompanied me here to wait for him at home because foreigners in the Reserve are not allowed to move freely inside so... here I am!"

"Oh, I'm glad to see that a person who doesn't respect the rules so little is now willing to follow a simple instruction," Percy said with a smug look on his face. 

It was difficult to get along with the uncompromising Percy. The power of authority made him arrogant. Just the opposite of his family, an example of humanity and kindness. When he caught her offences at Hogwarts, Percy always made Anthea pay for his silence. Most often it was to find Scabbers, his filthy rat who had recently been identified as the traitor, Peter Pettigrew. 

"Charlie, pour us some tea, please!" imposed the third brother. 

Indifferent to the witch's boredom, Percy strutted like a rooster, explaining his responsibilities in the Ministry which had recruited him immediately after Hogwarts: He was the personal assistant to Barty Crouch, the Director of the Department of International Magical Cooperation. He had come to Romania as part of his duties. 

Anthea was lazily following Percy's pompous tirade, under the perplexed eye of Charlie. Being forced to behave like a stranger in a place where the witch considered herself at home bored her deeply. From under the table, the dragonologist put his hand on the thigh of his companion, who grabbed it back.

"Precisely, Percy. Speaking of your duties, we haven't finished discussing the two of you."

"Don't talk about it in front of her!" the ministerial employee whistled as he blew on his steaming cup. "I remind you that it's confidential until the ministry decides to make it public!"

"What are you talking about?"

"About the next Three Wizards Tournament," Charlie informed.

"I know about it," she answered to the amazement of the two brothers.

"Oh, no," lamented Percy, as if the sky had just fallen on his head. "Don't tell me you've been snooping where you shouldn't have?"

"I have just returned from London. An important meeting at Gringotts has been cancelled because the Goblins are upset!"

It must have been serious to disturb the Goblins' Olympian calm. The two men were left speechless waiting for an explanation, which didn't come. The young lady blew on her steaming cup of tea before carefully dipping her lips into it. Percy's fingernails pounding the table with the regularity of a metronome betrayed his impatience. 

"Stop making us languish. Explain!"

The blonde put her cup down slowly before answering. 

"The goldsmiths received their contract for the three pieces of goldsmithery needed for the Tournament and they noticed the arbitrary modification of a clause they were very fond of. They think that the Ministry is scamming them !"

She drank a sip of tea while Percy was chattering impatiently under Charlie's amused eye. To enrage his brother, so uptight, was a rare pleasure that he did not sulk!

"What clause?" asked Percy again, with exemplary self-control.

"Ah! That's hard to say... That's the disadvantage of getting information unofficially... You're never sure of anything."

For several minutes, Anthea tried Percy's patience before Charlie incited the witch to let go. The Goblins had a very strange notion of property rights, which led to several disputes with the wizards. They considered an object to be forever the property of the person who made it, despite the fact that a buyer had bought it. However, nothing in the original contract specified what would happen to the goldsmithery after the tournament. The Goblins considered that it should revert to the goldsmiths. Sooner or later. They had therefore proposed an amendment in which each of the champions would keep the objects until his death and then return them to their creator, the legitimate owner according to their principles. 

"But the Ministry refused by sending them another amendment claiming them in its own name," Anthea explained. "And as a moral and impersonal entity…"

"They can't wait until they die for a restitution," Percy finishes seriously. "But when you pay for a good, you keep it. And they will be paid very handsomely."

"And they consider that they are paid for the manufacture and use of the pieces, and not for their conservation by the Ministry," Charlie objected.

"Exactly. And they hold all the funds of the sorcerer's world."

"If they feel wronged, they can be much more of a pain in the ass than a pebble in the shoe," Percy analysed. "Especially with the World Cup where the galleons will pass from hand to hand faster than I have time to say "Quidditch"."

A thoughtful silence settled in. 

"But they're the ones who are unreasonable!" Percy stubbornly said, unwilling to engage in diplomacy with goblins.

"Percy, the Goblins are proud and very attached to their works. Why else would they hire spell-breakers from all over the world to find the ancient artefacts or relics they have made over the centuries? It is not just for their own profit. They feel a real attachment to their work that wizards don’t know how to appreciate in their eyes."

Considering the superfluous sermon, Percy looked up to heaven.

"And so... What should be done... according to you?"

Anthea looked at him, over the cup she was holding in both hands. He had unpleasantly whistled the last three words. 

"Tell me quickly! I don't have time to waste with your childishness! There are those who work, who have responsibilities! Commitments!”

"So I imagine that if I do a flower to someone with so much responsibility and power, he will give it back to me one day or another," she said innocently.

"Of course," sighed Barty Crouch's assistant, disappointed but not surprised. "Here we are…"

"We've always been there, Percy."

"You were breaking the rules, Anthea!" he asserted. "You had to suffer the consequences one way or another. So tell me…"

"She gives you information that might take a thorn out of your side, you have to be grateful... As Mum and Dad taught us," Charlie intervened.

Percy pursed his lips as he explored his possibilities and... capitulated with a nod.

"Make an amendment specifying that the goldsmithery goes not to the ministry at the end of the tournament, but to the minister in the office on the date of the contract. At the signing, the Ministry will be happy since it will recover the items and by the time the Minister dies, the Ministry will have lost interest in these useless things. Finally, the Goblins will be very satisfied to recover their works, in about thirty years. Bill had stayed at the Burrow to talk to you about it, but since you are here…"

"It's a good compromise to avoid an ego war," Charlie commented.

"It's not stupid," Percy admitted. "I'm going to pass it on to whoever it is! Er... Wait! You're telling me I could have gotten this information "for free"?"

The couple exchanged a knowing glance and two palms clapped in celebration of this small victory.

"Well, now, back to our dragons!" exclaimed Charlie cheerfully before hardening his tone. "You can't take Nova to the Tournament! Caldus told you, other dragonologists told you, I told you. In fact, all the specialists that your commission consulted because they are specialists, told you the same thing. Don't take this dragon! Already, the idea of making kids face brooding females is crazy. But this one…"

Exasperated by the stubbornness of the Ministry, he nervously ruffled his hair... If he doesn't tear it off. 

"I'll correct you immediately," said Percy in a smug tone, "the candidates are not going to face them, they'll just have to go ahead!"

"Wonderful!" Charlie mocked and applauded. "That changes everything! It's the first Three Wizards tournament in ages, and you're putting sensationalism ahead of the safety of the participants. This dragon has exceptional abilities, which surpass everything we know about this species! It is more powerful, more unpredictable, more aggressive... more dangerous!"

Despite the terrible description, Charlie's respectful admiration for the creature that caused Evelyn's death was palpable. 

"That's why we are counting on you, the Dragon Guardians, to keep everyone safe!"

"Ah! There! To take responsibility, you recognize our skills? Skills that you despise when they contradict your desire for greatness!"

If Charlie could sometimes get carried away, no one had ever seen him rise to the occasion without reason. So Percy had the wisdom not to flinch.

"Candidates will be prepared to face a dragon at least?"

Anthea's question sounded like a way of kicking in the sidelines. 

"No! And you'd better not let the cat out of the bag! It is said that the participants must discover the test the same day," specified the employee of the Ministry. "Moreover, Dumbledore has introduced an age limit - seventeen years old - so that this first tournament will be less deadly than those who caused its suppression."

Percy dared a smile, intended to cheer up his brother. "As usual, Fred and George will probably try to override it!"

Charlie puffed as he imagined the twins' treasures of inventiveness to get around the age limit. 

"The seventh years have already seen the programme about dragons," Charlie analysed. "They will be able to get along with the other dragons... But Nova... It's really crazy!"

"Is this the right time to remind you that you owe me a flower, Percy?" intervened Anthea, putting her empty cup on the table.

"Not that," Percy grinned as Charlie looked at her with eyes shining with renewed hope.

"Oh, yes, I do…"

"Listen, Percy!" said Charlie. "The Reserve has signed a contract obliging them to provide you with what the Ministry will ask for for the tournament in exchange for an increase in our subsidies... So I propose that you make a full report regarding the unanimous unfavourable opinion of the Reserve to use this dragon and I only ask you to present it to them at your next meeting and to find a point in the tournament rules that will support this report."

"Your request is more reasonable than I expected," Percy wondered. "I agree."

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**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, 
> 
> With this chapter, I wanted to make the link with volume four of the Saga. And to give an insight into the mentality of the goblins who would play a role later on. 
> 
> In the next chapter, we will meet the members of the Khanna circle for a festive evening and the first event of the Tournament. (Programme: humour and the first threat) I don't imagine Charlie at the centre, in the shadows, of the plots of the Harry Potter saga, but rather on the periphery with his own issues. I hope it's good for you!


	10. Quiddich et suspicions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Summer 1994 :**  
>  Reunion of friends at the quidditch world cup.

Xxxx❤xxx❤xxx❤xxxX

The Quidditch World Cup was in full swing. The defeat of England after a pitiful performance had put Charlie in a bad mood until the group of friends gathered in a tent for an evening of fun and conviviality. 

It was the first time since Poulard that they had all got together: Anthea, Charlie, Ben the reckless auror, Penny the talented potion maker, Tonks the auror who managed to get the paranoid Mad-Eye to love her, Tulip the prankster artist, Chiara the discreet healer, Barnaby and Liz the empathic magizoologists, Andre the quidditch player, Jae the smuggler with a passion for cooking, Diego the duellist, Badeea the artist and Talbott the auror animagus. Jacob and Bill had also joined them. 

They all formed a circle on the floor, Anthea between Charlie and Penny with Jackpot, Jacob's Niffler, on his lap. Jae had brought something to delight the joyful assembly. Tulip showed them the new products from his stuffing shop and Badeea made some sketches of the group under the watchful eye of Talbott, her fiancé.

With his arm in a sling, Andre had not been selected by the England team and he was redoing the last -lamentable- match with Charlie, Bill and Jacob. 

As usual, Diego flirted with all the girls and Penny begged for a game of action or truth, in the name of nostalgia and curiosity. And after so much time without seeing each other, one had to admit that it was refreshing.

So everyone learned that when she turned into a man, Tonks had all the male attributes and that yes, thanks to this faculty, she had already peed standing up.  
Ben admitted that he polished his wand an average of three times a day.  
Barnaby's greatest pride was that he had trained his murlap to bring him a slipper. Yes, just one!  
Jae would soon be publishing his recipes in collaboration with Badeea, who would take care of the illustrations! And no, he wouldn't give any of them away for free!  
Liz's most ambitious dream was to see her acromantula win a Go tournament, a complex game of Muggle strategy.  
And Charlie had already kissed a dragon, "as a result of a prank by Pedro", he said with fire on his cheeks. 

With a carnivorous smile, Tulip challenged Diego Caplan who courageously chose "Action". 

"Kiss whoever you want to end the night with!"

The inveterate seducer gauged all the girls, like a wildcat on his hunting ground, and set his sights on Anthea. She turned pale, her fingers tensed on the sweet creature, a half mole, half platypus, resting on her thigh. Sure of its charm, the brown approached her slowly tanned face and her eyelids closed with confidence. There were only a few centimetres between their lips and with a quick gesture the witch placed her hands between them.

Thus Diego kissed with his tongue the beak of "Jackpot", Jacob's niffler!

The duellist's wide-eyed gaze plunged into that of the creature, as stunned as he was. Laughter and applause rang out. Not leaving his cape of seduction, Diego Caplan gracefully took the refusal and passed on the same action to Charlie. 

In front of a bewildered crowd, the dragonologist slowly leaned towards Anthea.

"What a success, Anthea! commented Tonks.

"Aren't you afraid to kiss Jackpot?" laughed Penny. "A real Gryffindor!"

"Know what's waiting for him and go for it anyway! That's courage!" joked Jacob, the young woman's older brother.

"It takes more to scare a guy who’s already kissed a dragon," André assured her. 

Jacob and Bill should have been the first to know about their relationship, but no opportunity for the four of them to isolate themselves had yet arisen. The silent dialogue between the dragonologist and Anthéa resulted in a global announcement. 

Admiring whistles, applause, and a horrified shout greeted what everyone took to be daring rewarded by the next torrid night for the two protagonists. Then, an astonishing silence fell when they realised that it was the kiss of a couple bound by a sincere affection. 

"Congratulations are in order," commented Badeea as she handed out a sketch of the couple.

"Are you together?" exclaimed Jae, completely flabbergasted.

"By Merlin! When I told you to look after her in Thessalonica, I wasn't thinking so closely," shouted Jacob, laughing. "Anyway, if you make my sister suffer, remember that another murder trial doesn't frighten me! After all, it'd just make another redhead on my chase board!"

Some looks hardened to this memory. To protect his sister, Jacob had finally eliminated Rakepick, their former teacher who had betrayed them in their quest for the cursed cellars, who had manipulated Jacob until he was imprisoned in the trap of a cursed painting. Rakepick was also the murderer of Anthea's best friend. All of them had testified at Jacob's gruelling trial. Jacob had had to prove self-defence to shorten his stay in Azkaban.

"Jacob, you've gone too far," Anthea grumbled.

"How long has this been going on?" Penny asked.

"Long enough."

"Precisely!" Jacob insisted sternly.

"I don't understand... When I was in Luxor, you advised me to enjoy life, to have fun!"

"When I knew that none of them had a chance of ever getting anywhere! It was fun!" he explained, before knocking Charlie down with reproaches and questions about his intentions.

"It's going to end badly," Liz prophesied.

"But no," reassured Barnaby, wrapping his arm around the shoulders of the ebony-skinned magizoologist, "Charlie deals with dragons every day, it isn’t Jacob who's going to intimidate him.

"You don't know my brother very well," replied Anthea, approaching the Weasley's eldest son. "Sorry about that, Bill... We wanted you and Jacob to be the first to know, but..."

"Everything's fine... and I'm not surprised. After all, you always said Charlie was your favourite Weasley" teased Bill, briefly tickling the young woman's ribs. 

Then Charlie took something out of her pocket. "Given this confrontation, I thought it might come in handy!"

Jacob turned pale with a sudden retreat from the innocuous object held by the dragonologist. 

"She didn't tell you that!" Jacob exclaimed in fright before roaring, "ANTHEA!!"

Charlie laughed as he put it back in his pocket before anyone could see it. It would remain a little secret…

Xxxx❤xxx❤xxx❤xxxX

With a sheep across his shoulders, Charlie walked with a wide stride through the thick forest of the Hogwarts estate towards the Hungarian Horntail enclosure which was to take part in the Three Wizards Tournament the next day. Thanks to Percy's intermediary, he had managed to keep this dragon out of the Tournament by having it replaced by a Welsh Green. 

But all his plans had fallen through when the fire goblet selected four sorcerers instead of three. 

The redhead released the sheep into the pen and the dragon, whose limbs were firmly chained, got rid of its thick fleece and cooked the meat in a single stream of flames. Her spiky tail swept across the ground as she devoured the animal with a few strokes of her jaws while spreading a protective wing over her brood. Her yellow orbs, split by a thin black pupil, threatened the benevolent man who had fed her. 

"She looked stressed," observed a female voice behind his back.

"It's normal, it's not her house. I feel sorry for whoever falls on her."

Then, his mind struck and Charlie turned around."Anthea ?"

"Surprise!" she exclaimed before being wrapped in a warm embrace.

With his eyes closed, the sorcerer inhaled her perfume for a long time and embraced her fervently, his heart beating. He finally moved aside and his gaze fell on someone far away whom he absolutely didn’t want to see. He retreated.

"What's he doing here?”

The blonde massaged the nape of her neck with a yellow laugh.

"Oh! Well... you'll never guess! He's coming to the Tournament! We've booked the same Portkey. Chance..."

Charlie sighed as he caressed the witch's pink cheek. He didn't feel like arguing with her. But this guy was vampirizing them. Literally. At work, he was hogging Anthea, stealing her time and energy. He interfered in their intimacy by barging into her house unexpectedly when the dragonologist was there to harass him with questions about dragons. Charlie loved to talk about his passion, he could monologue about dragons for a whole year. But the constant presence of this guy put a lot of pressure on the couple and tended to keep them apart. This was unacceptable! 

Suspected to be a former Death Eater, he wasn't appreciated by his peers and Anthea sympathized with his loneliness. It was difficult to blame her.  
And Charlie was not blameless. When Anthea didn't want to go beyond the framework of a professional relationship with his subordinate, the redhead, touched by his passion for dragons, had shown himself friendly with Sokkar, unwittingly initiating this uncomfortable situation where man insidiously invaded them. 

"Come on! I'll show you around the camp... I have a date with Torvus tonight, not far from the Centaurs' camp. Do you want to come with me?

Xxxx❤xxx❤xxx❤xxxX

"Time goes by... I didn't expect to find Torvus so old..."

Walking hand in hand in the gloomy Forbidden Forest, the couple had just returned from their meeting with Torvus, a centaur friend who had helped them in the past. The November mist surrounded them and gave a ghostly look to the bare trees of their foliage. Anthea was guided by Charlie, an excellent tracker, whose wand illuminated their steps. 

"Yeah... I wonder what the Centaurs saw in the future. He looked anxious," the redhead replied.

"Do you think it's about Harry Potter?"

"Or You-Know-Who," Charlie added, recalling the mark of Darkness that appeared after the Quidditch World Cup final, a symbol that no one had seen since the fall of the black magician and that could mean only one thing: his imminent return.

"One hardly goes without..."

Swift as a golden snitch, Charlie had extinguished his wand and pinned Anthea against a tree, smothering her protests with his palm. He put an index finger over his mouth to order silence. Then he pointed to something behind the tree. She nodded and bent her head to observe the direction. 

The low voices of two silhouettes, one slender, the other smaller and massive, pierced the fog. 

"Did you succeed?"

"Yes... Not yet had the opportunity to test on a big one. Doing it here seemed simpler but the safety is optimal."

"Try it tomorrow... All eyes will be focused on the Tournament."

"And by the time of the advent, I should have three !"

A disgruntled growl, unintelligible at this distance, resounded in the night.

"Because you think it's easy!" shouted the slender silhouette. "I should point out that the manufacturing process is long and tedious. As for the targets, they are guarded like a potion on fire."

Suddenly, Anthea came across the peculiar look of an artificial eyeball. Quickly, she transplanted with Charlie to the latter's tent. When they arrived at their destination, Anthea girdled Charlie's waist, her cheek glued against his shoulder. With a finger under her chin, the redhead forced the witch to raise her tense face towards his. He stared at her with anxiety.

"Alastor Moody," she blew. "I don't think he recognized us... But, I... I don't know why... I... I felt in danger !"

"Hence our escape... I would break my wand if it wasn't Sokkar with him !"

"Stop this fixation," she spat. "Not everything revolves around Sokkar !"

"I don't question your instinct when you claim to have felt threatened by Mad-eye, the greatest hunter of black magic, the mentor of Tonks and... a friend of my father. So, trust mine when I tell you that the other one was Sokkar..."

The last sentence sounded more like a supplication than an affirmation. Anthea sighed. 

"I beg your pardon... Of course, I believe you. It's just that I don't understand what they're doing together... And what they need to test?"

His inability to respond made him sigh with impotence. He embraced his companion more tightly.

"Something tells me we'll know soon enough.

Xxxx❤xxx❤xxx❤xxxX

The first round of the Three Wizards Tournament took place the next day. All the dragonologists were on the alert, divided into teams for the various tasks to be accomplished. The security of the enclosure where the event took place was ensured by a dozen dragon guards, including Charlie. Others were responsible for guarding the dragons near their enclosure, and finally, two other groups were in charge of transferring the dragons from their enclosure to the event site.

Dragons were essentially territorial animals. Being moved so far from home caused them a lot of inconveniences which they showed by unloading their aggressiveness on the humans responsible for their transfer. Only the presence of their eggs, in the middle of which a golden egg made by the Goblins had been added, sometimes managed to make their slaughter mood subside. Even the Welsh Green, usually rather peaceful, roared his discontent. The clamour of the crowd did not help. Nevertheless, Caldus and Gédéon, with a masterful hand, coordinated the efforts of all the guards to keep the situation under control. 

Thus, Cedric Diggory de Hufflepuff retrieved his golden egg by making a diversion in front of the Swedish short-snout, the Frenchwoman Fleur Delacour got hers by inducing a trance in the Welsh Green she had to face, Viktor Krum blinded the Chinese Fireball who trampled on two of his own eggs, which annoyed several dragonologists. They were two lives to be born, the fruit of hard work, dead to make the show. Finally, Harry Potter demonstrated his talent on a broom by facing the terrible Nova.

At the end of the ordeal, Charlie slipped away to congratulate Harry Potter and send an owl to his mother, who was very worried about Harry. And Anthea went to get drinks for everyone. On the way to the tent where food was stored, she met Filius Flitwick in a big conversation with Mad-Eye. She greeted them kindly. 

"Anthea!" exclaimed the half-goblin cheerfully. "It's a pleasure to see you at Hogwarts. I follow your career closely, you know. You are still stationed in Thessaloniki?"

"Yes, Professor," said the young woman, staring at the auror, who remained mute, looking at her suspiciously. I was even promoted a year ago!

"Congratulations! I have always been proud to have been the teacher of such a talented student as you."

"Then you must be proud of Harry Potter! It was an exceptional attraction spell!

"Ah! Do you also think? He has never succeeded brilliantly in class, but necessity pushes the limits, I imagine... We were just discussing this with Alastor! He appreciated more the metamorphosis made by Cedric Diggory. But what more can one expect from a man whose favourite pastime in this school is to transform pupils into ferrets?"

The young woman giggled and said goodbye to the two men, feeling the weight of a piercing look in her back. A shiver ran through her. If she had been preoccupied up to now, she was definitely getting worried. 

She was sure of it. The auror hadn't recognised her. Mad-Eye hadn't recognised her at all.  
Surprising from a man that everyone said was paranoid. The auror would have mentioned the need for constant vigilance. It was his creed! He would even have checked her identity before letting her wander. 

But he had done nothing. No sign of recognition, even though he had tracked down the Dark wizards who had come after her as a teenager. An idea that Anthea thought was a bit crazy sprang to mind.

What if... What if it wasn't Alastor Moody? 

Which would explain her fatal impression last night... And in that case, she would have to be warier of Sokkar...  
External advice was necessary... Charlie had to be told. Or better yet, Dumbledore.

She entered the tent, poured herself a cup of tea and filled three thermos flasks with hot drinks for Charlie and his colleagues. The November frosts were difficulties to bear after an afternoon spent outside, exposed to the wind and humidity.  
A hot drink would be more than welcome.

_"Obliviate."_

A deep confusion twisted her features as a wand withdrew from the tent.  
What was she doing here, anyway ?

Xxxx❤xxx❤xxx❤xxxX

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just imagine! The Harry Potter saga could have ended here! 😱
> 
> What do "Maugrey" and Sokkar do together? 😈
> 
> Thank you for coming all the way here. I hope you will still enjoy the rest of the trip even though everything will get darker... 🙂


	11. Missing & mutilated

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **March 1995 :**  
>  A dragon has mysteriously disappeared from the Reserve.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello ,
> 
> One more chapter and we will have caught up with the French version of this story and I will be able to concentrate on the following chapters and make a simultaneous publication. 
> 
> A chapter longer than the previous ones. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy !

Xxxx❤xxx❤xxx❤xxxX

"An electrical short circuit is the cause of the fire. The highly flammable contents of the shed did the rest to create an inferno."

Electricity, Muggle energy. Charlie would never have suspected it could be so dangerous. Pensively, he observed the huge shed of which only a metal frame and skeletons of agricultural machinery remained amidst the smoking ashes. The fire soldiers had only been able to contain the flames by preventing them from spreading to the nearby cattle shed. 

"That confirms my observations," said Charlie. "No dragons have set foot on the ground and no cattle have disappeared from the surrounding herds. No tracks in the woods, either."

Such a massive creature inevitably modified the environment it roamed through. But nothing betrayed the passage of a dragon in this remote region of Bulgaria. Yet Charlie had beaten the countryside and if a tracker as gifted as him had found nothing, it was because there was nothing to look for. 

The two men drove away from the red fire trucks, so old that they looked like collector's vehicles, with their blue flashing lights turning endlessly. They ignored the circumspect glances and the murmur of the onlookers who wondered about the presence of these curious strangers, who had come on foot, without luggage, to their isolated countryside. 

Once out of sight, they disappeared into a dark vortex with a crackle of dry wood. They reappeared in front of the Reserve's reception area, the anti-teleportation protections surrounding the Reserve being temporarily lifted to facilitate the movements of the trackers. 

"Did you draw a white?" asked the sorcerer guarding the entrance.

Caldus nodded his head darkly.

"Impressive but classic fire."

The man handed them a leather purse with a green glittering powder. The tall blond man took a generous handful of it and entered the chimney, animated by a beautiful blaze. The reserve had its own strictly internal network of chimneys, allowing access to the different activity zones of the sanctuary covering an area of several hundred square kilometres. To move around the Reserve, it would be easier to disappear and reappear, but poaching and various accidents in which more or less experienced sorcerers landed under the fangs of a dragon had forced the management to take a radical measure: the prohibition of appearing and disappearing. 

"Administration," he said as he dropped the floo powder on the flames, which took on a fluorescent green colour.

Charlie imitated him and landed in the hall of the administration building, it was next to the clinic in the centre of the reserve. They went upstairs and entered an office. On the right was a library full of books except for a shelf where a witch radio was enthroned, broadcasting regular news flashes. 

Sitting at his desk, Gédéon was leafing through Muggles newspapers in the hope of finding articles recounting events that could be linked to the presence of a dragon. 

"Did you find anything else?" asked Charlie as he sat down on the last free seat. 

The man took a newspaper that he had isolated from the others, opened it wide, rifled through the pages and folded it over the article deserving their attention. He mentioned the appearance of a mysterious predator in the Hungarian countryside following the disappearance of livestock. 

"A breeder's rivalry that turns sour," Caldus grumbled as he smoothed his braided billy goat.

"Does that mean we're not going there?" asked Charlie, serving three glasses of firewhisky.

"We'll go," Caldus grumbled. "To avoid any later regrets." 

A dragon had left the reserve. It wasn't the first time a dragon decided to go on an expedition, but he always ended up coming back home after a few days. The staff followed in their footsteps thanks to the media, who never failed to report the damage caused by their adventurous charges. This recurring behaviour among the dragons of the reserve questioned the dragonologists who studied them. 

Charlie thought that by crossing the enclosure of the Reserve, the dragons were testing their freedom to make it more concrete. Besides, they were experimenting with other living conditions and were more appreciative of evolving in an environment adapted to their needs, gaining a point of comparison. Proof of this was their spontaneous return. 

As the need to change territory was linked to the abundance of prey, the plains at the foot of the Carpathians were rich enough in cattle to satisfy their predation instinct without them feeling the need to change territory. The reserve was scrupulously vigilant in this respect. Moreover, the dragons never took more food than they needed. Contrary to appearances, they didn’t have a taste for gratuitous killings. They left that to the men. But that didn't stop them from being very… irascible. 

In rare cases, it happened that a dragon flew non-stop to the territory where he was born, driven by an instinct that men still couldn't decipher. The story of each dragon being perfectly documented, it was easy to find such a fugitive.

But this couldn't be the case for Fáfnir, the Swedish Short-Snout missing from their ranks. He was born in the reserve. The situation was a worrying novelty forcing the volunteer dragonologists to rush on every track suggesting supernatural or magical phenomena to find him. 

So they followed all the tracks, even the strangest ones. In parallel to the follow-up of the suspicious events reported in the non-magical media, they investigated on their side in case their dragon had made a bad encounter during its walk.

First, they contacted most of the national services dedicated to magical creatures to be informed of all the information they could collect in the framework of their activities. 

Fearing the action of poachers, they travelled anonymously through all the black markets of Eastern Europe. Without success. They contacted all the poaching teams whose names they had been able to collect. To no avail. 

They questioned the potion-makers, who were generally not very careful about the origin of the ingredients they bought. None of the dragon supplies had caught their attention.

They infiltrated underground fighting circles where wizards in search of money could either bet on the fights or fight other wizards or magical creatures whose aggressiveness was exacerbated by mistreatment. The first time, the cruelty he witnessed squeezed Charlie's stomach so hard that he vomited his food. Instead of discouraging him, it strengthened the dragonologist's will to continue his mission with his colleague. If their dragon was there, there was no way he would stay. The duo won galleons and new scars. But no information about Fáfnir. 

The tracks were beginning to run out. It seemed as if the creature had vanished into thin air. Which was impossible. No one could make a dragon disappear without leaving tracks. Yet the days marched and with them the weeks.  
Soon, a month passed.

Xxxx❤xxx❤xxx❤xxxX

Leaning against the doorframe, Charlie admired the woman lying on the bed, the spellbook she studied before going to sleep serving as a pillow. It was two o'clock in the morning and the redhead was returning from Ukraine where dragon-like footprints had intrigued the non-magical and magical scientific community.

Unfortunately, it was a hoax. A gang of imaginative teenagers had decided to make it look like the dinosaurs were coming back with the help of stilts and plaster casts. Kids who would be appalled to learn that their prank had caught the attention of the magical community who feared a dragon was coming to the territory.

Charlie rubbed his wet hair from his recent shower with his towel, which he dropped. Then, the dragonologist crawled over Anthea's body to sow sweet kisses on her shoulder blade, running a finger, as delicate as a feather, in the hollow of her spine, which he guessed through the delicacy of her nightie.

"I'm home," he murmured against her cheek.

The witch quivered and a smile stretched her lips. With her eyes closed, she turned under him and tenderly embraced her lover who nested his face in her neck. 

"I missed you," she sighed, contentedly.

"I can see that," he said, stretching out to put the thick book on the bedside table. "You work too much."

"Said the man coming home from work in the middle of the night," mumbled the blonde.

"Me, I've never fallen asleep on a dragon,"

He felt Anthea's smile fade against his skin. 

"What's the news?" she asked after a few moments.

Longingly, he sniffed her perfume, soaking up her sleepy serenity. 

"It was a hoax," he finally grumbled. 

A month without any progress concerning Fáfnir was beginning to weigh on his morale and to tie up his muscles which had been stretched by stress and anxiety.

"You'll find him again," she said confidently, kissing the hollow of his neck.

He exuded his despondency in a long sigh as comforting hands massaged his back. 

She captured his lips for a long time and a roll on the side reversed their positions. Straddling her lover, her fairy fingers drew his virile features, as a blind man would have done. Eyelids closed, Charlie let the annoyance vanish under the delicacy of her touch. Then she sketched arabesques on the freckled torso, pinched his nipples, grazed his scars, flattered the Hungarian Horntail on his left chest and his nails followed the red line from the navel to under the boxer shorts.

"I love your body: there's always something new to discover, like that freckle there," she said, putting her lips on it, "I'm sure I've never kissed it before…"

She giggled softly. Displaying a carnivorous smile, he lifted his hips with a sharp jerk, she rocked forward and held on to the headboard. Charlie rolled up the nightie and his mouth grabbed the nipple grazing his face and nibbled it. The air whistled between the witch's teeth. 

"The novelties are often scars," he slipped by observing the effect of his suction on the nipple.

"Does it upset you?" she whispered.

He shook his head while sucking the other nipple. His body had shaped itself to respond to his daily activities, his scars retraced the vagaries of his life. Until now, Charlie could look at them all without feeling the shame or pain of an experience not overcome. Certain spells or tattoos could hide the scars. He had already used the second subterfuge to hide a serious injury from his parents. But Anthea's gaze had never fled or betrayed the slightest repulsion in the face of the stigmata. Not only did the blonde accept him, but she found him desirable, worshipping each scar in the same way as intact skin. He gently engulfed the witch's face in his hands.

"I love you."

The tenderness that he read in the expression of Anthea soon disappeared in favour of mischief. 

"And how many dragons have you told this to?" she joked. "Forgive me for asking, but now that I know you kiss them…"

"Pedro had played a joke on me!" he protested, tickling her. 

Laughing out loud, she struggled under the scratches aimed at her ribs. 

"Except Hagrid... I don't know anyone else... To believe that a dragon needs a consolation kiss... When he loses a tooth!" 

It was the first time she teased him about this anecdote discovered during the Quidditch World Cup. And it was clear that humour and playfulness had the gift of calming Charlie's tensions. 

"He was very convincing!" he defended himself by continuing his offensive on the most sensitive points of the spell-breaker. 

The witch twisted herself so tightly that she swung to the side of the bed in a jumble of crumpled sheets and dragged Charlie across the floor. 

"Ouch!" she complained and laughed. 

The blonde raised her face and swallowed the caring question on his lips. Their body to body left the posture of play to become sensuality. The witch moaned to feel him pressing himself against her, redrawing her curves and tangled his tongue with hers.

With a fluid movement, she returned to a dominant position. With enticing eye contact, Anthea constellated her lover's muscular torso with kisses, nibbled his nipples before soothing them with the freshness of her breath, and caressed the hardness through the boxer shorts. She took off his underwear, played with the balls and massaged his cock, greedily devouring Charlie's mouth, which was just as greedy. He was sliding down Anthea's panties when a muffled rattle escaped him.

Understanding lit up the witch's face, and she stopped caressing him, stood up and took off her meagre clothes. Desire made her wet. She slowly impaled herself on the burning erection. Charlie filled her with delight. Caressing her lover with her gaze, she undulated, stimulating her clitoris with one hand and with the other, she lasciviously kneaded her breasts.

"I like the way you look at me…"

"Hey! Well," he said in a hoarse voice. "You offer a... stimulating view!"

Anthea smiled mysteriously and sowed here and there with sensual kisses that melted the redhead. 

"I'm not talking about that."

The dragonologist raised an interrogative eyebrow. But the resumption of the ride made him lose his thread.

"Touch me," she said in a caressing voice. 

The redhead reached out his hands towards the feminine curves swaying before his lustful eyes. Mistress of their pleasure, Anthea rolled her hips without complex, her lips red with their kisses, her skin quivering under her calloused hands exuding praise. The intensity of the comings and goings on the limb increased and their skins clacked to the rhythm of rales mixed with moans. The sex swollen with desire, on the verge of rupture, he immobilised his sweetheart suddenly. 

"I'm sorry, but I wouldn't last long like that," he said with clenched teeth.

"And...?" she encouraged in a honeyed voice as she contracted her vaginal walls.

"Stop it!" he grunted. "I don't want to finish too early."

If his need for her now exceeded his need for sleep, an orgasm would inevitably reverse this hierarchy. But Charlie wanted to take her to a climax first. And he was far too excited to rely solely on his cock too impatient, to achieve that goal. 

"Let me take care of you, time to come down a little,"

He turned her over on her back and withdrew, smothering the women's protests with a kiss. The calloused fingers explored the dampness, traced circles around the bud dedicated to pleasure while her mouth, moist and warm, closed on a nipple full of desire. When she gasped, arching under him, he penetrated her with his fingers.

Now Charlie knew how to read Anthea's body accurately and give him exactly what it needed. He skilfully modulated his caresses to bring his lover to her zenith. While the witch gave free rein to her pleasure, Charlie's sex, hard as iron, burrowed into her with a powerful kidney stroke.

"Oh! Charlie! Yes!" she cried, anchoring her nails in the redhead's shoulders. 

The orgasmic waves ran aground on the hardness and Charlie straightened himself by placing the calves of Anthea on his shoulders. He began to move, first with a slow and wide amplitude intensifying the friction of their sexes, then at the rhythm that Anthea needed to find the summits of voluptuousness. Charlie was going strong, deep. So hard that she slipped on the floor and banged her head against the bedside table, forcing them to stop and readjust their positions, Anthea holding on to the legs of the cabinet. Once again, passion consumed them.

A calloused hand slammed against a bouncing buttock, the vibration being felt around the impaled manhood. Surprised, as much by the gesture as by the pleasant fire that it left on her skin, Anthea uttered a small strangled cry.

"Good?"

After a nod, he made his beloved's buttocks blush, who could no longer hold back her screams, overwhelmed by the sensations of intense deep coitus combined with the fires of a moderate but firm strike. The soggy sex that tightened like a vice around the cock announced the imminence of a new orgasm for the witch. Anthea's legs slipped and tied around the redhead's waist, burying his face in the blonde locks.

"Look at me!" demanded the spell-breaker. 

Usually, the paroxysm of lust closed the eyelids of Anthea, tilted her head back or stuck Charlie's teeth in her neck. Today, Anthea wanted more than pleasure, she wanted the intimacy of a connection.

Then he held up her gaze, his soul thus exposed, and the orgasm broke out to take them together to the confines of ecstasy, where nothing else but them existed. They were panting, forehead to forehead. Then the ardour of their frolicking seized Charlie. Suddenly he feared he had been too brutal. 

"I love you," whispered the witch, her eyes watering with grateful adoration. 

Reassured by this statement, the redhead praised the osmosis of their bodies which each time tightened the bonds of their hearts. He wiped with his thumb a tear of pleasure ready to leave the edge of his lover's eyelashes.

"Even though you almost knocked me out," she added.

"Sorry about that... Are you in pain?" Charlie grinned as he helped her back to bed. 

They lay in each other's arms and legs, their limbs tightly entwined.

"Of course not! I don't have scales, but I'm not made of sugar, you know?"

"Speaking of dragons, where's Kara?"

"Probably busy chasing the rats out of the neighbourhood. She will come back later ."

A few moments later, a serene smile danced on the lips of the red-headed man when he heard the rustle of the wings of his pet dragon lying by the door. Bound by magic to the Spell-breaker, Charlie had noticed that Kara sometimes acted under her unconscious influence, like when she came home just after Anthea announced it.

Xxxx❤xxx❤xxx❤xxxX

They woke up late. The frolics of a lazy awakening kept the couple in bed longer than usual. Also, it was close to noon when they had breakfast. It was the first time they had ever allowed themselves to be so phlegmatic between Charlie's shifts and their outings.

Charlie finished cooking the eggs with bacon while Anthea set the table, telling how a spell-breaker struck by the Curse of the Snail's Slime had flooded his office and the rest of the branch with the mucus dripping from his nose, forcing him to finish his work at home. Three loud and dry knocks rang against the door.

"Caldus," said the couple in one voice, while Charlie put the pile of hot pancakes on the table. "Come in!"

The athletic blond seemed surprised to find Charlie, bare-chested with a simple pair of pyjama trousers, and the blond modestly tightening the belt of his bathrobe. Caldus's chiselled face was brightened by a teasing expression that set Anthea's cheeks on fire. Charlie served a butterbeer to his chef, mentor and friend. 

"Do you need me to follow a new lead?" asked the redhead man.

Professionalism once again froze Caldus's features. 

"No. I've come to see your Grave Robber."

The bearded man drank a sip of his drink which left foam on his moustache. He wiped it off with the back of his sleeve. Over time, the witch had learned to respect Caldus, whose stature, brevity and penetrating gaze, like the blizzard, could intimidate. Without feeling close to him -they had so little in common-, Anthea could affirm that she appreciated Caldus and vice versa. 

Since he had learned that the spell-breaker nicknamed him "the Viking", the man called her "Grave Robber" in reference to her trade. Finding the nickname unflattering, Anthea had tried to dissuade him from it. Undaunted, he then asked her if she had ever taken treasures from a grave. The witch had answered honestly. And in a mausoleum? A sepulchre? A mastaba? Catacombs? A hypogeum? An ossuary? A crypt? A necropolis? A tumulus? 

The answer was always the same. More and more pitiful as it was repeated: "yes".  
Caldus had replied, implacably: "Now make me laugh and tell me that you aren’t a grave robber!"

However, the Caldus facing them was not in the mood for a little verbal joust. 

"Me?" Anthea wondered, spreading jam on a pancake and giving it to the redhead. "Why?"

"Eggs and bacon, Caldus?" suggested Charlie, with a grateful smile on the witch's face. 

The man nodded.

"I've just come back from the Cold-Blooded district... A badly-famous district of Bucharest" he said to Anthea. "To see a contact about Fáfnir... And I found this," he said, exchanging a scroll for the plate Charlie was handing him.

Anthea bent down to read at the same time as the redhead. It was an announcement: Someone was looking for a hundred scales, fourteen claws and two pairs of wings. All torn from a living dragon. 

"We're going to have a poacher's return," Charlie scolded. "As if we need that!"

"I've applied for a safety upgrade," Caldus replied to Charlie, gulping down a piece of bacon dripping with egg yolk. "With the immediate re-establishment of the non-appearance/disappearance zone."

"Taken from a living dragon," Charlie read it again, with a shiver running down his spine. "It's atrocious!"

To ensure a non-negligible additional income, all the Reserves supplied the market with pieces of dragons that could be used in magic by cutting up the dead creatures in their enclosures. It was bad enough to do this on a dead dragon... but on a living dragon!

"For each scale, it's as if I were peeling your nails," Caldus said bluntly.

Anthea grimaced. Without having undergone this kind of torture, her imagination was enough to make her blood run cold. 

"In some black magic rituals, taking a component by force gives it more power," explained the witch, by putting honey on her pancake. "A power commensurate with the risk taken to obtain it,"

"This announcement is going to cause us some problems... But I would like to know more, especially what all this can be used for. With your work, you have access to a lot of knowledge…"

'I'm going to study this!" cut the witch. "I'm intrigued!"

"And while I'm at it, none of your colleagues has heard of a dragon?"

Anthea sadly shook her head.

Xxxx❤xxx❤xxx❤xxxX

Lying on his side, an emerald dragon, with a slender physiognomy, was snoring gently under the action of a sleeping potion. Golden pupils pierced the half-closed eyelids while Charlie's team inspected the reptile, named "Nightingale" because of his particularly melodious song. The claws of his front legs and about fifty scales had been torn off. Looking for signs of infection, Charlie palpated the scaly fingers with oozing wounds and the dragon rumbled, rose violently as if to bite the source of the pain and then his sleepy head fell back heavily.

"Sorry, buddy," Charlie sympathized, applying healing balms. "I promise you it'll get better after,"

"They were interrupted," said Evan, a crew member recently transferred from another reserve. "The bones are raw at the wing joints,"

"Then they'll probably come back to finish the job," Caldus scolded, whose fury with shards of ice pierced every word, every gesture, every breath and every thought. 

Despite the lack of personnel, the reserve still increased its security measures. All protective charms were reinforced. Probity probes and secrecy sensors were provided to the wizards holding the reception desk, as well as to each team leader on duty. Their efforts paid off, as no additional mutilation of winged reptiles was reported during this fortnight. 

The convalescence of the dragon was particularly monitored. And with his colleagues, Charlie was watching Nightingale devour his meal with a few strokes of his jaws when a high-pitched whistle split the air. A high-pitched voice of panic resounded :

"Donnola!"

In the distance, Oriana, Charlie's Italian friend, was rushing on her broom. She slowed down in a controlled skid and jumped off her broom before it came to a stop. Digging through the folds of her cape, she hurried towards Charlie. She reached for an opal statuette, her eyes gleaming with tears, and she was panic-stricken. 

"I'm sorry, I don't know what happened!" she said in a trembling voice. I was preparing an antiseptic solution and...Kara...was flying over my head...she suddenly petrified...I don't know if it's me...or if it's the products or..."

The face empty of any expression, Charlie stared at the opal in his hands with an absent look. His pulse beat so loudly in his ears that it covered the tumult of his panic-stricken friend. There was an emptiness in his head. Nothingness. An uneasiness, anguish should have overwhelmed him, he knew it, but the sorcerer felt nothing. Strangely enough, Charlie was extinguished... until a flash of pain pierced him. Caldus had grabbed him by the collar and pressed him against a rock. 

"Where is she?" roared the blond man, with the exasperation worthy of a man who was repeating himself for the umpteenth time.

Tetanized, the redhead stared at Caldus. Then, he understood. Kara's life was linked to that of Anthea. The metamorphosis was maintained by the will of Anthea, in a way as automatic as the brain controlling the breath or the heartbeat, without having to think about it... So, if the spell had dissipated... Either, Anthea was too weakened... Or, it was too late... No! Impossible that Anthea was... Charlie was unable to think of the dreaded word. 

"Where is she?" repeated the Viking, slapping him to force a reaction.

"Albania," Charlie murmured in a white voice as Caldus gave precise instructions to the members of his team.

In the light of the painful reality that had managed to impose itself, Charlie came out of his trance. And the terror of what might happen pulsed through his veins. Merlin! He could never look himself in the face if he didn't go to her rescue immediately. Quickly! The dragonologist didn't have a second to lose. He rode on the fastest broom in the ten lined up, Evan's broom.

"I'm borrowing it from you!"

And he raced on. A few moments later Caldus called him behind his back. Charlie glanced over his shoulder without slowing down. 

"I'll go with you!"

The relentless determination of his mentor allowed no contest. And Charlie welcomed this support with gratitude. Once outside the magic no-fly zone, the redhead teleported them to the edge of a beech forest in northeastern Albania. If Caldus had any questions, he kept them to himself.

We had to hurry! There was an emergency!  
Anthea probably didn't have much time left and Charlie's mind was hammering out a few words in the hope that they would reach the spell-breaker without knowing how.

"Please, Anthea, hold on!"

Xxxx❤xxx❤xxx❤xxxX

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Become the ray of sunshine of my day with ❤️ or a comment, even if it's just to say that you enjoyed reading... It's always nice to know that what you do is appreciated!😉  
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> Thank you !


	12. Charlie's torments

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **March 1995 :**  
>  Charlie and Caldus struggle to save Anthea who, for her part, receives unexpected support.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello,
> 
> Here we are with the last chapter which allows us to be at the same point as the French version. I hope you will like it. 🤞

Xxxx❤xxx❤xxx❤xxxX

An evil spell of an explosion pierced her magic shield, hit her head on and threw her violently against a tree. The witch felt an excruciating pain in her right foot. She screamed. Anthea fell heavily to the ground, shocked. She couldn't hear or understand anything. A shadow enveloped her, she had no time to be afraid of it. Through her heavy eyelids, she saw the blood gushing out in jerks and the shadow went away, leaving her to death as quick as it was inevitable...

A fierce will to live was ignited and Anthea refused to die. She rebelled in the face of fatality. The witch invoked a bandage that she laboriously directed with her wand to make a pressure bandage and slow down the bleeding. The witch summoned two healing potions stored in her besace. She drank one and the confusion confused her mind. The Grim Reaper was not to find her, Anthea had to hide. She waved her wand and mumbled an incantation.

An iron taste filled her mouth, making her aware that she had bitten her tongue on the last impact. With a superhuman effort, she rolled on her side to spit. And then it became black all around her. For an instant, Anthea saw herself unconscious, wand in hand, lying face down on the ground in her own blood.  
And then, nothingness.

Xxxx❤xxx❤xxx❤xxxX

Men's eyes scan the edge of the woods, without detecting anything unusual.

"And now?" asked Caldus, imitating Charlie who was riding on the broom borrowed from Evan.

"We have to find her point of entry into the woods. From there, the trail will be easy to follow. Like Bill, she's used to marking her passage when she goes off on her somewhere," said Charlie before swallowing the knot clutching her throat. "So that we can find her body... If ever…" 

The silent words hovered in the air as clearly as if they had been spoken. Fear gripped Charlie's insides. Anthea's parents had already experienced the excruciating pain of losing a child without knowing what had become of him. This uncertainty, lasting several years, had caused them more suffering than any bad news. The loss of a loved one always ended, sooner or later, in acceptance. But ignorance and doubt poisoned the mind forever. Anthea had always declared that she wanted to avoid this suffering a second time and Bill, in perfect agreement, also left a trail when he went on an expedition alone. 

Riding their broomsticks, the two men inspected the edge of the forest in search of... anything out of the ordinary and bearing the signature of the spell-breaker. Finally, Charlie joined a young beech tree whose trunk was strangled by a vine with reddish flowers that smelled particularly fragrant. 

"There's another one over there," Caldus announced, pointing at another honeysuckle deeper in the forest.

"And their flowering is much later at this altitude."

The heart of the redhead palpitates wildly. The honeysuckle. This plant was especially intended for him. She said that Anthea was counting on Charlie. It was out of the question to disappoint her trust!

"She knew I was coming," he exclaimed as he walked into the woods as fast as his legs would allow. 

The forest became thicker as they advanced and it hindered the progression of the duo guided by the fragrant honeysuckle. A well-known smell became perceptible in the air they breathed: that of charred vegetation. They rushed over branches, the dead leaves squeaking under their feet. 

Little by little, the duo noticed trees torn out of the ground, broken. The bark of some of them had been ploughed by powerful claws and the humus was covered with large tracks and ash tongues. 

An appalling reality became clear: a dragon had been unleashed in these remote places. Charlie squatted down and examined a footprint. It formed a large diamond shape in which three stocky fingers with short but broad claws, typical of a Swedish Short-Snout, could be seen. It had to be Fáfnir. What was he doing here? The dragonologists crossed the area with caution and branched off to reach a clearing formed by a fierce fight that must have taken place there.

Branches of trees were broken or twisted, residues of spells covered the vegetation, dead leaves were piled up in a perfect circle, ready to rise to counter an offensive, foliage and ferns were scorched, branches seemed to have stretched unnaturally. Trees bore the scars of the spells that had crashed into them. On the ground, two series of distinct footprints made it possible to determine the number of fighters. The air was heavy with residual magic but no traces of honeysuckle or Anthea. 

"Anthea!" cried the redhead. "Anthea !"

"Grave Robber!" cried Caldus, which earned him a dark look from Charlie.

"She must be here somewhere... Anthea !"

They inspected the surroundings. To no avail. If she was so weakened that she couldn't maintain Kara's metamorphosis, the witch couldn't teleport. Yet there was no sign of her leaving. 

"If she felt threatened and couldn't run away, she probably hid," Charlie thought, passing a nervous hand through his hair.

Immediately Caldus took out his wand and waved it: "Homenum revelio".

At the foot of a tree, Charlie saw a shapeless mass, soiled by leaves and earth. He rushed to Caldus's side. A hand escaped from the cloak, holding a laurel wand with two potion bottles, one empty, the other full. Anthea! 

The relief of having finally found her was followed by panic. The redhead nearly lost his mind at the sight of the amount of blood in which she lay unconscious. Once on her back, she was inspected. The blood-soaked bandage was immediately tightened and with a feverish hand, Charlie checked her pulse. His pulse palpated so strongly in the pulp of his fingers that he could not distinguish it from that of Anthea... The redhead had to fight against his fear in his stomach and his raging impotence. 

Fortunately, Caldus took matters into his own hands with the composure that characterised him and sought himself the longed-for beat. Fingers on the carotid, the Viking waited. The man readjusted his fingers and closed his eyes to concentrate on his touch. Suddenly, he opened them again. 

"Shit! You better not be dying now that we're here !!!"

With a wave of his wand, Caldus sliced through the waistcoat, shirt, bra, and belt while Charlie began the mouth-to-mouth. Bent over, arms outstretched, hands clasped over Anthea's sternum, Caldus began cardiac massage after slipping that he had felt a pulse very briefly. And one, and two, and three, and four, and five, and so... Crack! 

"A broken rib!"

Xxxx❤xxx❤xxx❤xxxX

Anthea came back to her like an apneist would come up to the surface of the water to breathe. She breathed in a big gulp but nothing came to fill her lungs. Yet, nothing suffocated her. The witch felt herself floating towards the diaphanous light above her. Spheres of light rose along with her. The witch touched one of them with her fingertips. The bubble burst as if it were made of soap and released the moving prayer of a grieving widow for her late husband.

And there, Anthea realised that she was dead. No! She couldn't be dead! She still had adventures to live, things to accomplish! She had to tell Charlie about Fáfnir! He had to know! 

Her gaze swept over her environment made of mist and luminescent bubbles, as she gently levitated upwards. No! She was not to rise any more!

"You are right, if you go up more, there will be no return!"

The warning came from a voice that had burst into her mind, before materialising under the astonished eyes of the spell-breaker. 

Anthea observed with emotion the vaporous, eternally young form, with ebony hair falling on her shoulders, with glasses that she never left, even after death. Did the incorporeal beings retain the physical imperfections of their carnal envelope? Rowan's familiar laughter echoed in her head. Which was strange, even for a legimens witch. 

"My nearsightedness has disappeared along with my body!" exclaimed Rowan without moving her lips. "The eyes of the soul have no blemish."

"Why are you still wearing your glasses, then?"

Her friend rolled her eyes to the sky. 

"Do you really want to talk about this? Right now?"

Anthea sweeps the pea puree around them. 

"I've got nothing better to do!"

"Go down into limbo, an in-between where the living and the dead can cross... But where no one can remain…"

Suddenly anguish that was foreign to her penetrated her mouth and suffocated her. This distress belonged to Charlie. How did she know this? The witch ignored it, but she was as sure of it as the night was black and the blood so red. Charlie was in pain, he was worried about her. The witch would have liked to reassure him, to tell him that she was there, close by, but the truth is that the spell-breaker knew it was out of reach. 

A violent pain perforated her ribs, she screamed... silently. Guided by her friend, the witch fell gently, the suffering was twisting her back to the physical world.  
She was only a soul oscillating between the world of the living and that of the dead, like a kite pushed by the rising wind and attached to the ground by a lifeline: pain.

Xxxx❤xxx❤xxx❤xxxX

Luckily, two series of cardiac massage were enough to restart Anthea's heart, which gave Caldus enough respite to read the label on the empty bottle: blood regeneration potion.

"She had good reflexes," commented Caldus, with a hint of admiration, watching Charlie desperately feeding Anthea's lungs.

The Viking made a tourniquet upstream of the most serious injury, the right leg in crumbs. The limb had suffered a full blast. Bone splinters had severed blood vessels causing severe bleeding which the witch had tried to stop. Combining Muggle and magical skill, the blonde repaired the bones, including the broken rib, connected the vessels, nerves and sutured the flesh that had not been destroyed. Once this was done, the witch breathed faintly on her own.

"Her enemy did not think she could survive," Caldus analysed as he put away his material. "At the same time, nothing is won yet... I did my best, but she lost too much blood."

Magical teleportation to the nearest hospital would be fatal to him. As for a trip on a broomstick... And none of them knew the spells to administer healing potions to an unconscious patient. 

"What are your blood types?" asked the blond man, smoothing out his goatee, a sign that he was considering an alternative.

"Uh... O+. Both of them," Charlie said, covering the naked bust of the inanimate witch with his jacket. "Why?"

"She needs blood, that's the top priority!" Caldus explained in a peremptory tone. "I can give her yours by praying that…"

"You know how to do that?" Charlie said. "And this will save her?"

Caldus' mother was a Muggle nurse, who had taught him never to rely solely on magic. She had also taught her two children the basics of first aid, as well as some medical procedures such as intravenous injections, oxygenating a patient or suturing a wound. In the hypothetical "just in case" of which all mothers were adepts.

"But, if you aren't compatible…"

He left the terrible possibility suspended in the air. Silent, but no less threatening. Charlie lost himself in the abnormally pale features of Anthea. Between the immediate threat to her life and the risk of an uncertain accident, there was only one choice. And nothing would make him back down, not even the serious doubts he had about this Muggle therapy, the ingenuity of which he had already imagined his father praising. 

"Give her my blood," he decided, animated by an implacable resolution. "What should I do?"

First of all, a shelter had to be found. Charlie rummaged through Anthea's bag with an undetectable extension spell and pulled out a small tent that unfolded in a flash. 

"She is provident," Charlie explained, noting the silent questioning of his team leader.

"Not like you who goes off to do a rescue with your hands in your pockets!" Caldus asserted, his voice full of reproaches.

The redhead massaged his neck in embarrassment. Once out of his initial torpor, Charlie's blood had only done one trick. This was far from the self-control he exercised in his work. 

"I know I left in a hurry. It was reckless…"  
"That was stupid!" corrected Caldus, uncompromisingly. "Fortunately, I always carry the minimum with me…" 

Caldus slipped away to give her some privacy while Charlie laid Anthea on the bed to undress her. He took the extent of the bruises marking this bruised body, which he washed with infinite care, reproducing the attention and care she reserved for him when he was wounded. Seeing her in this state was unbearable for him and a maelstrom of rage, anguish and regret overwhelmed the dragonologist.

Then Caldus stung Charlie. Five times before reaching a vein. 

"I'm out of practice," explained the blond, completely impervious to the signs of impatience of the redhead. 

Charlie was then connected to the Spell Breaker with a thin tube through which the dragonologist's blood enriched his lover's body.

Xxxx❤xxx❤xxx❤xxxX

"Are you some kind of ghost?" asked the blonde, although it was impossible: ghosts evolved among the living.

"No," confirmed Rowan. "No regrets attach me to the mortal world."

A veil darkens Rowan's ethereal face. 

"Remind that to Ben. He needs it to allow himself to be happy."

Rowan's gaze was lost in the bubbles rising around them.

"Do you know what it is?" asked the brunette.

"Prayers for the deceased ?"

"Or more precisely, the thoughts of the living for the dead," Rowan corrected. "I used to get a lot of these before... Now, outside of my family, it's just Ben, Merula or you sometimes... Bill, once a year." 

A tear without substance ran down Rowan's cheek. It was in bitterness. The guilt tied the throat of Anthea's throat. 

"Falling into the oblivion of the living is the second death of the defunct," Rowan moaned.

The two witches wrapped themselves in a hug. 

"I will never forget you!" 

Suddenly, the brunette stretched out her ear as if to hear voices that Anthea couldn't distinguish and Rowan's face softened.

"You'll be leaving soon."

"But…"

"Let's meet again in a few decades, we will have eternity to discuss. In the meantime, live! And give Bill my eternal affection and... my "hello" to Charlie!" she added with a wink. "If someone had asked me who you would fall in love with, I certainly wouldn't have bet on him... But what surprises me the most is that he is in love with someone! Although, considering your surname…"

"He must not know the meaning of it, otherwise he would have told me!"

"And you still haven't revealed it to him? Were you afraid you might influence him?" joked Rowan.

A familiar voice resounded. She called Anthea in a painful plea, a prayer in desperation. A fire flowed like lava burning every part of her being. 

"I feel weird! Rowan, I'm burning!"

The ethereal silhouette of Rowan flew into the nothingness above her.

"Rowan!" Anthea reached out her hand to hold her back. "Hold on! Don't leave me alone!"

"Go back to where you came from. Live !"

Anthea looked around her. It wasn't Rowan who was rising, it was she who was sinking into the mist. Under the weight of the inner fire flooding her.

"Rowan!" she shouted. "The Wiggentree that I will plant to pay homage to you will be the living memory of our eternal friendship."

Rowan's voice echoed one last time as she reached unfathomable depths.

"Think of me..."

Xxxx❤xxx❤xxx❤xxxX

When this was done, Caldus announced that he was hunting for their dinner. Once on the threshold, he turned around and glanced over his shoulder. Charlie was sitting in Anthea's bed beside her.

"Talk to her... She might hear you."

The redhead felt a bit silly about what he was about to do. But if his voice, a few words could help Anthea wake up and free him from the weight that was weighing on his chest every minute, he was willing to try.  
Charlie had always imagined that he could lose Anthéa by crushing her with his demands, with his place of residence isolated from everything, his working hours, his devouring passion for dragons, his refusal of paternity, his lack of romanticism, the little support he offered her daily- she had never shown any need for it, either -. But he never thought he would risk losing her in this way! 

Was he naive? Or was it because it was more comfortable for him to think that she was strong enough to face everything? It gave him an excuse not to care for her as much as he should have and allowed him to devote himself one hundred per cent centto his dream. The reflection took a direction that overwhelmed him with shame and bitterness. Selfishly, Charlie had preferred to believe that Anthea was invincible and reality cruelly reminded him of the opposite. 

His gaze lingered on the bruises marking her skin. And for the umpteenth time today, his heart broke and a black anger flooded him. 

Charlie had never been so close to losing her. And it was only now that he perceived the value of the treasure he possessed.

The sorcerer was forced to admit it. Because she had never tried to supplant them, Anthea now occupied as much place in her heart as the dragons. So, he could never live without her again. Just as he could never live away from the dragons again.  
The importance she had taken in his life had only grown little by little, without him realising it. But the fact was there, wetting his eyes with emotions that he refused to let flow, Anthea was as indispensable to him as the air he breathed. He had never noticed it before. 

"Anthea... Caldus says we have to talk to you... I don't know if you can hear me but if you can, please wake up, you are safe now... Come back to me, my love... Come back because I need you, I will take care of you, I promise you... You really have to come back because without you it won't be the same…"

With a knot in his throat, he interrupted himself by spreading a lock of hair eating her face, then he kept an inert hand in his own. 

"Without you... I’m nothing."

What did he expect? That Anthea would wake up with sweet words, like in the rose-water novels his mother was so fond of?

It was ridiculous... Yet Charlie continued to pour out his prayers and feelings in a more or less coherent sequence into a stubbornly deaf ear. His heart broke over and over again from not perceiving any reaction. 

Numb with the transfer of blood, he closed his eyes. He reopened them when Caldus returned with a rabbit cooked over a wood fire. Caldus' trained eye, inspected the features drawn from Charlie. 

"You have to stop the transfusion, you're getting tired."

"No, she still needs it."

Caldus's gaze hardens. Suddenly he had a grave, worried look on his face. 

"I have no intention of sacrificing myself," reassured Charlie with a pale smile and purplish dark circles under his eyes.

"Only because you refuse to put it on her conscience," Caldus grumbled, giving him such a piercing look that Charlie thought he could see through him.

"It’s possible," he conceded, thinking of the deep uneasiness eating away at Ben's tortured soul for whom Rowan had sacrificed herself. "But, I guess deep down, I've never been the kind of guy who would die for his loved ones. I'd much rather live and be strong enough to fight for them."

He also remembered the deep guilt that had embraced Anthea when Barnaby had made the human shield, twice, revealing his propensity for sacrifice. At the time, she had even distanced herself from the Slytherin with whom she flirted for fear of what might happen because of this excess of devotion. On this point, they were the same: they both thought that self-sacrifice should only be the last resort, never the first intention. 

"Nevertheless, I'm afraid you're doing too much. And don't be offended! But if I have to end up wearing someone to get out of this forest, I'd rather it be her than you!"

"She needs it," sliced the redhead.

"OK, I'll leave the transfusion a little longer... I said "a little longer"! After that, it's "stop"... willingly or not. Is that clear?"

The night passed without any improvement, to the great dismay of Charlie who had spent the longest night of his life waiting for the witch to wake up. Despite his good constitution, giving blood had weakened him and made him drowsy. This led Charlie to understand more about his father's fascination with the muggle community: in the absence of magic, they had developed treasures of ingenuity and courage to survive and evolve their civilization. The sorcerer bent down to embrace the temple of Anthea. 

"If you hear me, my love... Come back to me... Today," he murmured against her skin. 

A good part of the morning passed and Caldus decided that it was around Charlie to provide their meal. The redhead did his job as quickly as he could. Anthea could wake up at any moment and he didn't want to miss it for anything.

Even though he was waiting for her impatiently, the redhead was still astonished when he entered the tent and saw her half-seated, supported by Caldus who was giving her a healing potion. She was awake! It was a miracle! 

In a flash, he had let go of the small game he was holding in his hands and he held her in his arms. The anguish of the last hours, the anger, the impotence... Everything disappeared the moment he felt his warm breath on his neck.

"Fuck, don't ever do that again!" he scolded against her ear before taking the witch's face in his hands and pressing his lips against hers as if to soften the harshness of the reprimand.

Anthea would have liked to reassure him but she was having difficulties. She would have swallowed glue that her mouth would not have been so pasty! 

"Water," she articulated.

Charlie released her to serve her. She fell asleep immediately after drinking.

"The hardest part is over now. And I was able to give her a second blood regeneration potion and another one for healing. Nevertheless, it will be necessary to go to the hospital."

"Her leg," Charlie understood. 

The Viking nodded. He had what he could. But it was tinkering compared to proper medical care. Anthea would probably still have after-effects that needed to be assessed by a certified healer. Nevertheless, Anthea's life was saved. They would have plenty of time to deal with the rest. 

By the time she woke up later that afternoon, the witch had regained colour, although her eyes were still dull and surrounded. The potions had served their purpose perfectly. The two men had remained at her bedside playing cards, discussing Nightingale's injuries or exchanging hypotheses about Fáfnir's presence in this part of Europe... 

"What happened?" Caldus finally asked, offering her travel biscuits and water.

The confusion wrinkled Anthea's forehead as she mentally reconstructed the events. She had agreed to accompany one of her subordinates on a quest near here, where a cursed trap required the simultaneous action of two people to ward off a curse. On the way, her colleague had told her a rumour about a dragon in another part of the forest, so the witch decided to check for herself once her mission was accomplished. 

"I just wanted to get a glimpse from afar before contacting you," she said, looking up at Charlie with sorry eyes, "So as not to give you false hope and waste your time. And when I got there..."

Suddenly she widened her eyes. Horrified! 

"The centaurs!"

She suddenly cleared the sheets and sat down at the edge of the bed, completely unaware that she was wearing only a long T-shirt and panties to leave her wound accessible for treatment. Then she got up. No sooner had she stood up than she collapsed into a painful squeak. Miraculously, she never touched the ground. Caldus held her against him, supporting her under her armpits before he put her back on the bed. 

"Not so fast, Grave Robber,"

"Thanks," she breathed as she became aware of the lightness of her outfit. "My clothes." 

The situation was too serious for her to be concerned about her modesty. And then it was Caldus. He had probably seen others...

"What's going on?" asked the red-headed man, bringing her some clothes and fixing the splint that Caldus had prepared for her. 

The young woman puts her bra on under her T-shirt and manages to dress quickly while maintaining her dignity. Thank you for the years of quidditch and the collective changing rooms! Then she asked for her wand, called out her broom to act as a cane and leaned on Charlie on the opposite side so as not to put her injured leg on the floor. She rushed outside escorted by the two men who were protesting vigorously against this premature expedition. 

After about a hundred feet in the woods, she stumbled when all her strength suddenly left her, her body painfully protesting her reckless haste. She had to stop, out of breath, petrified with pain, her eyes burning with rage at seeing herself so physically limited. 

"I'll be your legs, Bloody Lady," Charlie said, lifting her like a bride on the threshold of her house. "Guide us."

"Damn it! It sounds like a vampire's name!" the witch moaned.

"It's very appropriate," Caldus cut in a resounding tone. 

When she had arrived in the area indicated by her colleague, a fight was raging. A Swedish Short-Snout was attacking a camp of centaurs. A silent consultation took place between Charlie and Caldus. Both were thinking the same thing. The story confirmed their observations. And a name immediately came to mind. 

"Fáfnir."

The spell-breaker had intervened to rescue the Centaurs. Little by little, she had managed to monopolize the dragon's attention and to drag him away from the camp before a wizard intervened and took the dragon's side. 

"At least, that's what I thought until I realised that…" She cut herself tightening her arms around Charlie's neck and he stopped walking and gave her silent encouragement.

"Shit! You'll never believe me! But... The dragon obeyed him!"

"What?"

"Impossible!"

The deep voices of the two astonished men had collided. 

"A dragon more docile than a Crup," confirmed the witch by pointing the direction to take. "Join the path over there and follow it towards the East."

After a while, the dragon had left on the order of his trainer. And the fight continued between the two sorcerers.

"Who was he?"

"I don't know," she said, resting her head on the redhead's shoulder. "I haven't been able to break the camouflage spell hiding his face."

"How did he control the dragon?"

Anthea grimaced in dismay over her ignorance. 

"A darker magic than the one I usually encounter was at work. That's all I can say. I think that the ad found by Caldus could be related."

"Fáfnir had disappeared long before that," Charlie replied without hiding his scepticism. 

The spell-breaker had no way to counter this argument. It was just a hunch but she was certain that this was the way to go. She resumed her story.

"During the fight, I was severely hit. He probably thought that I couldn’t survive my injuries. Which was my chance. I made a pressure bandage and drank a blood regeneration potion before I passed out…"

"That explains why you survived such a long time of blood loss," Caldus commented. "When we arrived…"

Charlie's arms tightened around Anthea. He stopped and brooded her with a look full of emotion.

"Your heart stopped beating when we arrived."

Anthea wasn’t surprised. She had the vague impression that several entities had worked together to save her. At least one of them was not of this world. 

"Rowan!"

They moved silently through the woods. The breeze carried the smell of scorched vegetation, mixed with the smell of charred flesh. At the bend in the path, Anthea asked Charlie to speed up. They reached a large hole in the forest, covered with a thick blackish layer of ashes, the dust of which was floating in the air. She saw the skeletons of centaurs charred in the ashes.

Where there was a camp made of canvas, fodder, stalls of tools and weapons made by blacksmiths, hay targets, a gigantic astrolabe and a telescope on a tripod, there was nothing left! Nothing but skeletons, molten metal and ashes! Eyes filled with tears, mute with fear, Anthea was covered with violent tremors. 

No! It wasn't possible... There was nothing left! The herd had been slaughtered! Yet the witch had tried to save them. She had failed miserably. So there were no survivors? Collapsing on the ground, she clenched her fists, imprisoning the ash in her hands, her body animated by violent tremors... Despair, pain, helplessness, failure, horror, rage... All these emotions were stirring within her with the violence of a hurricane that she could not contain. She was too weak.

In the arms of a red-headed man distraught with such distress, the young woman gave herself over to the violence of her sobs for long minutes. Charlie cradled her against him, whispering soothing words: that he understood this grief, that nothing was Anthea's fault and that she had done her best, that he would take some of this burden on his conscience... 

Suddenly Caldus drew his wand and stood between them and four imposing figures whose arches were stretched in their directions. With his face bathed in tears, Anthea leaned her head to see the new arrivals. An immense relief decompressed the Spell-breaker's chest. Survivors! The eldest of the four centaurs stepped forward as a scout, his bow stretched, ready to shoot. They had lost everything. Except for their fighting spirit. Lingering on the other creatures, Anthea recognized the youngest of them. She moved away from Charlie, who helped her get up. 

"Father! You were right, she's alive!"

The Centaur lowered his weapon and stared at Caldus who put away his wand. The younger one advanced halfway, took an arrow out of his quiver and bandied his bow. The arrow shot into the ground two metres in front of the blonde. Caldus grabbed it and handed it to the spell-breaker who wiped her face with her sleeve. A scroll was wrapped around the arrow. 

Anthea unrolled it. It was a map of the Balkans, from Slovenia in the North to Crete in the South. A dragon flying south-eastwards appeared as a watermark. She looked up at the quartet and bowed her head in gratitude. The four centaurs once struck their torso with a fist in a gesture that Anthea interpreted as a thank you. Then the horsemen galloped off into the depths of the forest...

"Tomorrow we'll take you to Caladrius Hospital. I'll start my search for Fáfnir from there," said the Viking.

Xxxx❤xxx❤xxx❤xxxX

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope I have managed to move you a little with this chapter. Including Rowan here was for me an evidence. The next chapter will focus on the consequences of this difficult episode. And all will not be rosy... Sorry !  
> Anyway, thank you for getting this far. The next chapters will be published much more irregularly from now on and I apologise in advance.  
> See you soon.


	13. Thunderstorm !

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello,
> 
> This chapter is quite long. I hope you will like it.

Xxxx❤xxx❤xxx❤xxxX

"Welcome back home!" said Charlie as he opened the door before moving aside to let Anthéa pass by, who was moving forward on crutches.

The young woman entered and her hazel eyes swept her environment from floor to ceiling, as if to check that she was back home. Finally, her eyes fell on the staircase. She advanced towards her enemy of the next few weeks with fierce determination. As she blew a good blow to release her tension before engaging the fight against the stairs leading upstairs, Anthea felt lifted by strong arms. Her crutches fell to the ground as she wrapped her arms around the neck of the dragonologist, which she shot out of her eyes. 

"You'll have to get used to my help, the healer said "absolute rest"! I have agreed to spare your pride between the fireplace and here but now it's over," he announced in a peremptory tone as he climbed the steps.

He put her gently on the bed and sat down on the edge. 

"By the way, I don't even understand why they let you out so early!" 

"Well, I provided the necessary guarantees, I suppose... In fact, as soon as I said that you were a dragonologist, they accepted my release saying that you were definitely the man for the job!"

Charlie raised an eyebrow, and a mischievous smile widened as the understanding shed light in his mind. 

"You had given them a hard time, didn't you?"

"They were bullies who wouldn't even let me go to the toilet by myself! Can you imagine that? And they were on my back all the time, worse than dragons smouldering an egg... And the same personality on top of that."

"They must say the same thing about you, you know?" Charlie laughed. 

"And if you only knew what they were saying about you and Caldus!" Anthea giggled.

Thanks to magical teleportation, the two dragonologists had brought Anthea to the Caladrius Hospital in Thessaloniki, easily accessible and in the direction indicated by the Centaurs. The violence of the whirlwind of teleportation had caused the weakened witch to faint, prompting the anxiety of her escort, who had rushed to the emergency room like angry erumpents, ordering the immediate care for their protégée. The hospital staff had once again obeyed the Viking's cold, natural authority. 

Blood regeneration potions had finished restoring Anthea's blood volume and her leg was examined. The bones had fully reunited. Caldus' sutures combined with the action of the healing potions had facilitated the healing of the tissues he had been able to mend. Then, with the right care, the muscles, nerves and all the tissue that had been disintegrated by the explosive spell grew back. And if these were in all points similar to their counterparts in the opposite limb, they were tissues as new and without strength as those of a baby. Therefore, after the strict rest necessary for the perfect healing of her wounds, the witch should begin a rehabilitation. 

In the meantime, the curse breaker should learn to live with her infirmity. This proved difficult for the young woman. By dancing so closely with Death, Anthea had become aware of the ephemeral nature of life. Consequently, the witch considered that every minute spent doing nothing was a lost minute. Her wound hindered her frenzy of living, which filled her heart with bitter annoyance. 

The blonde moved on the bed and wrapped her arms around Charlie's neck. 

"I checked my medical records... You saved my life. Thank you."

"It was Caldus who saved you... Honestly, I couldn't have done it without him."

"Kiss me instead of being modest." 

Charlie was far too happy to do it. He had been so close to losing her. In fact, he'd even lost her until they managed to pull her out of the clutches of the relentless reaper. Therefore, the dragonologist felt the need to touch her, to breathe her, to hear her, to convince himself that she was still there, alive. With him.

He kissed her with a slow, tender kiss. The touch of their mouths brought a horrible image into his mind, one of those that troubled his nights and covered him with an icy sweat since he had tasted the blood of Anthea on his lips. 

"Undress" she whispered.

"They said absolute rest," sighed the wizard, chasing away the uneasiness that had invaded him. "I don't want to delay or jeopardize your healing." 

Frustration fell on the shoulders of Anthea who wore a sulky pout.

"You're not going to deprive a half-disabled resurrected woman of the unique opportunity to remember how good it’s to be alive?" asked his lover, unzipping Charlie's trousers to caress his cock. 

He breathed a sigh of wellbeing before depositing a furrow of kisses in the witch's neck, he undressed her carefully. Concentrated and attentive, the redhead worshipped the exposed areas which he kissed, licked, chewed and marked as his own. Anthea's skin was on fire and Charlie's skin, caressed by expert hands, had nothing to envy it. 

Burning, they tilted to the side, mouth to mouth, sex to sex, Anthea's injured leg on the redhead's hip. Tightly embraced, they kissed and caressed each other until all that remained for them to do was to satisfy the deep desire they had for each other. 

The gentle warmth of their union contrasted with the fires of passion that usually consumed them. Their bodies undulated in harmony, the pleasure coming and going in a slow backwash that overwhelmed the witch before carrying away her lover. 

Suddenly, frightening images tore the veil of lust that had obstructed Charlie's view: the image of an Anthea lying in her blood with Caldus trying to restart her heart, then the image of a pale, amorphous Anthea in his arms as he entered the hospital. 

A muffled rumble drove away these bad memories and Charlie hugged the young woman with all the strength she could bear without breaking. He admonished himself inwardly as he came to his senses. It was all in the past. Anthea was there, alive, whispering tenderly "I love you" to him, her body fused with his most exquisitely and intimately. The sorcerer no longer had anything to fear. 

"I'm sorry I wasn't as present for you as I should have been," he suddenly declared. 

"You were present when it really mattered, the rest doesn't matter."

"No, I want to change that," he insisted. "I want you to be able to rely on me. As much as I've relied on you, until now."

Anthea scanned Charlie's resolute face. She didn't want to be a burden to the dragonologist. She was determined to regain her autonomy as soon as possible! However, the witch was forced to admit that help would be welcome in some aspects of her life.

"Hey! Can I count on you to defeat my new enemy?"

"Who is it?"

"The stairs!"

Charlie laughed softly before informing her that he would take her for a drink at Vlad's house that evening to celebrate her return at home.

Xxxx❤xxx❤xxx❤xxxX

As they entered the pub, the couple were greeted by Charlie's entire work team. Each had come with their girlfriend or boyfriend of the moment. Once again, Anthea noticed the solidarity of the staff of the Reserve where everyone felt concerned by each other's joys and misfortunes. This warm welcome warmed her heart. Oriana rushed towards her and held her in her arms, tears of joy streaming from the edge of her long brown eyelashes. A little cluttered by her crutches, Anthea paused for a while before responding clumsily to the friendly embrace of the busty brown woman.

"It's good to see you! We were worried sick."

The beautiful Italian girl turned away and the spell-breaker greeted everyone before moving towards Caldus who rose to his feet as she approached. His usually aloof attitude hardly encouraged demonstrations of public affection. So a stunned silence filled the group as Anthea embraced the man's waist and he froze, his arms suspended in the air, without daring to touch her. 

"Thank you very much Caldus. I was lucky that a friend like you came to my rescue."

"A friend?" he put his hands on her shoulders in amazement. 

The witch stepped aside with an enigmatic smile and the athletic blonde invited her to sit between him and Charlie. Charlie watched their exchange with sympathy. 

"You have seen me as few men have seen me. I'd like to think that it makes ties. "

"Don't talk to me about how many guys have seen you naked, Grave Robber."

"Uh, I was mostly talking about the fact that you saw me dead. "

"And naked too," he said, raising his glass of firewhisky to toast with her.

"To be honest, I didn't need to know that part of the story," she said, blushing, gently banging her glass against his, before doing the same with Charlie and everyone else. "Anyway, I know what I owe you and I'm not ungrateful."

"If this is your way of telling me that you owe me, you already know what I expect from you and I'm still waiting for your answer."

The young woman looked at each of the people toasting and chatting happily, before dwelling on Charlie, in a great conversation with Oriana. She smiled softly.

"Even if I find it hard to understand why, it's all right, Caldus... That said, don't be angry with me if I hope it's as late as possible."

A pint of mead and a glass of whisky collided to seal the agreement, under the insistent eye of the man sitting opposite Anthea. He must have been the newcomer Charlie had briefly told him about. This tanned face crowned with curls that large black eyes pierced was familiar. 

"Excuse me... This is going to sound terribly cavalier, but... We know each other, don't we?" asked Anthea. 

The man's eyes sparkled with amusement. 

"Evan Kepler. I was a friend of Felix Rosier and Chester Davis," Evan smiled. 

"Oh, yes, I remember now. Are you still in communication with them?

Evan chuckled as he said that Chester was continuing his career with the department. 

"As for Felix, I imagine he must still be in Peru, making a list of all the things he could accomplish by commanding an army of dragons!"

"Reassure me, this idea of commanding an army of dragons is pure imagination, isn't it?"

"It's an impossible kid's dream-like like riding a unicorn or putting your hand in the mouth of a Nundu and pulling it out intact? His parents used to tell him the tale of a hero commanding dragons... Didn't you think it was possible anyway? "

Anthea laughs yellow as she sweeps the air with his hand.

"No! Of course not!"

"I know that you fought Fáfnir who you think obeyed your enemy. But I wouldn't believe it until I saw him myself... Everyone knows that dragons are impossible to tame!"

That was precisely the problem, Anthea thought. Fáfnir obeyed without being tamed. 

The evening went on in a friendly atmosphere that succeeded in making Anthea forget her infirmity... until the group decided to let off steam on the dance floor. For a moment, she was envious of the dancers wiggling around on the dance floor while wondering: would she dance again one day?  
She breathed a bored sigh before emptying her glass under Charlie's sad gaze.

Xxxx❤xxx❤xxx❤xxxX

A week went by, punctuated by Charlie's working days, a few visits from Oriana and Caldus, her professional correspondence, her research into the "domination" of a dragon and the possible uses of the ingredients on the list that Caldus had found in Bucharest. The spell-breaker's instinct sensed a link between these last two elements, a link she had not yet found.

Through her countless readings, she had discovered that sorcerers in ancient Rome practised rituals in which the heart, wings and sometimes even the last breath of a dragon were torn out. Too succinct, the mention deserved to be deepened but her sources were exhausted without access to the Gringotts archives. Thanks to them, the Goblins possessed a memory almost as old as the world, which proved useful in thwarting curses as old as the spell-breakers encountered.

"I can ride a broom by myself, you know?" said the witch, hugging Charlie, "even as an Amazon!"

Their mount rose into the air on the impulse of the redhead. 

"No! Absolute rest until your re-education which has not yet begun. "

The witch made a disappointed pout. Charlie proved to be even more intractable than the harpies at Caladrius Hospital. As announced, the dragonologist was very present with Anthea. Too present. He devoted all his free time to him and they never got together as much as they normally did. Anthea was threatening to explode. The redhead thought he was doing the right thing, and maybe he even needed it to reassure himself. However, being the perpetual subject of his attention oppressed the young woman. 

As a resident of the Reserve, she had access to all its facilities, including the care centre where two therapists specialized in physiotherapy were working. After being skewered by a Romanian Longhorn when he was starting, Charlie had benefited from the expertise of one of them, Imamu. They were greeted by a dark-skinned, well-built man whose face stretched into a wide smile revealing two rows of perfectly white teeth. 

"Charlie! What brings you here?"

After a virile hug, the redhead stepped aside to reveal the presence of Anthea who addressed the therapist with a tight smile. The man looked at her from head to toe, paying particular attention to the foot who was not touching on the floor. Anthea had the impression that he had already made up his mind about her case, just by looking at her.

"So, you are Anthea Dreki?" he said, reaching out his hand. 

The young woman put her two crutches in the same hand to grasp the one that was being held out to her, with a determined face. 

"Indeed."

"Let's go to my office," Imamu smiled as he takes the file Charlie was holding out to him. "Fanny? Please bring us some tea!"

The man showed them the two chairs in front of his desk before settling into his own.

"How is the recovery going?"

The witch grinned a long grin, while the healer looked at the file carefully. He sometimes nodded his head covered with thick, long dreadlocks. 

"Good," he said, raising his head. "What is the situation today?" 

At that moment a woman with long pink hair, endless legs and dreamy buttocks entered with a tray which she placed on a piece of furniture and served cups for all, without ceasing to cover Charlie with a teasing look. The dragonologist was fidgeting around on his chair in the colour of a ripe tomato. Jealousy almost suffocated Anthea. This beautiful woman must have been the metamorphmagus that had been Charlie's occasional lover. Without having a problem with the wizard's past, the spell-breaker was not in the mood for it today. 

"Anthea? What's the situation today?" Imamu repeated patiently. 

"You're the expert, aren't you?" grunted the blonde, crossing her arms defensively across her chest. 

Far from being annoyed, the healer laughed softly. 

"I want your opinion on your situation. What are the developments since your last assessment of your condition, for example?"

"My opinion? You're the first to care!"

Since she had been rescued from certain death, she felt that her life no longer belonged to her. They told her what to do, what not to do, what to eat, what to think, to be quiet, to be cooperative, that they knew what was good for her - better than she did, apparently - and to her dismay, Charlie was no exception. She couldn't even make the seven metres from the bed to the toilet or shower without his escort! 

And then this stranger asked her opinion! From the outset, Imamu positioned himself as the one who would help her regain control of her life. It was as life-saving as a breath of fresh air. She closed her eyelids to concentrate her thoughts, which were parasitized by the beautiful but very exasperating Fanny.

"My leg is healing well but inactivity weighs on me. And I'm afraid I'm going to diminish the rest of my physical condition and... I feel like I'm on a hair trigger, irritable."

"That's a good thing to say," said Charlie enthusiastically. "I know less irritable dragons!"

Anthea scowled as Fanny giggled softly. Frustration and anger won her over. The healers of Thessaloniki had told her that it was normal to be irritable and have difficulty controlling her emotions in her situation. Charlie's words made her doubt. But she needed certainty to help her recover from this ordeal. She gave him an angry look. 

"What is your goal in your rehabilitation?" Imanu asked, ignoring Charlie's comment and his black eyes riveted on Anthea. 

Strangely, the spell-breaker felt that the therapist was reading her like an open book. 

"Getting my skills back! As soon as possible it would be nice. Do you think it's feasible?"

"If you let me guide you, we can do it," he said confidently. "Is there a pleasure that was dear to your heart before your accident that you are deprived of today? It could become a concrete goal to set for yourself..."

"I confronted a wizard who left me for dead," corrected the witch in a dry tone. "It looks as much like an accident as a unicorn looks like a dragon!"

In full reflection, her gaze was lost in the volutes of smoke rising from her cup. 

"Dance," Charlie whispered with a nostalgia that surprised Anthea. "You've always loved to dance." 

In truth, it was as much Anthea's pleasure as that of the redhead who admired her ease in moving her body so smoothly in rhythm. 

"So, we will try to reach this goal. Nevertheless, your limb will always retain a certain fragility, I'm afraid. The persistence of slight claudication is also possible. We are going to start very slowly and at the same time, I am going to prepare a training programme that will keep you in shape. And of course, this programme will involve walking around with your crutches at home."

"Does that mean I'll finally be able to go to the toilet on my own? "

"Yes," chuckled Imamu. "But first of all, I need to be sure that you'll listen to my instructions and that you're not going to push any harder than you have to. After a loss of autonomy, it is normal to be in a hurry to regain it but rehabilitation is a long-distance race, not a sprint. Forcing at the wrong time can be detrimental to your recovery. Is that clear?"

"I know my limits and I won't go beyond them," smiled Anthea. 

The therapist raised a circumspect eyebrow. He wasn't fooled and let it be known.

"That's not quite the answer I was expecting... But, I'd settle for it."

Xxxx❤xxx❤xxx❤xxxX

The first session was intense and painful. To keep her current physical shape, Imamu had concocted a whole series of exercises adapted to her infirmity, which left Anthea sweating and out of breath. But the witch immediately recognised the benefits. The efforts had enabled her to evacuate all the frustration of the last weeks and she had discovered muscles she had never known existed. Then Imamu ended with some small exercises to gently mobilize her leg. He also showed her some gentle movements that she could reproduce in moderation at home.

Imamu was demanding, but never harsh. He knew how to reframe her when she started to lose her footing - it was the case to say -, he encouraged Anthea to surpass herself while making sure that she never hurt herself. Moreover, the man was jovial and very attentive to his patients. Anthea could not have hoped for anything better.

Little by little, the intensity of the exercises increased until the first attempt was made to support her leg. Imamu thought her foot was strong enough to start supporting weight. Anthea had to try to walk between two parallel bars. 

The witch had spared no effort, including the effort to rest when she was asked to. The witch's confidence was nourished by that of her healer. Charlie had made a point of attending this great premiere. He was standing back by the door with Fanny. Fanny's presence made Anthea grind her teeth, but the stakes were too high to be distracted. 

"Take your time," Imamu advised, "concentrate on yourself, your impressions, and as soon as you feel ready, you try to lean on your leg. It's you who manages the effort and the weight you put on it."

The blonde nodded and applied the instructions. Charlie held his breath as he watched Anthea's fragile but determined progression between the two bars. 

"Very good," Imamu congratulated. "If you want, we'll go back and stop the session on this victory."

Anthea nodded enthusiastically and started again. Halfway through, the witch collapsed under her own weight, trying to hold on to a bar. In vain. Imamu checked her injured leg as she clenched her fists, her eyes wet with angry frustration. When she looked at Charlie, he closed his eyes, his lips pursed. 

He seemed disappointed. It made her heartache. But it was nothing compared to how she felt when he saw Charlie shake Fanny's hand. Imamu helped her up and handed her her crutches. The jealousy, disappointment and frustration of her failure turned into a tsunami of uncontrollable rage that rose up in the blonde's chest. With a scream of fury, the spell-breaker grabbed the crutches that had been handed to her and struck one of the parallel bars. And she struck again and again and again... until she twisted her crutches at the right angle, threw them against the wall and knocked down the bar she had been working so hard on. After that, there was a moment of cautious floating. Then the therapist waved his wand. Repaired, the crutches came back into Anthea's hands, shocked by the violence of her behaviour and the Olympian calm of Imamu.

"Rehabilitation is a path strewn with pitfalls. You will have other tantrums."

"Aren't you angry?" she asked, completely bewildered. 

"Do you think you're the first to attack the equipment after a failure? If it makes you feel any better, Charlie once threw a weight through the window."

Embarrassed, the redhead massaged his neck and confirmed the information. He and Fanny's hands were no longer tied. 

"Honestly," Imamu continued, "I'd rather see angry patients who will redouble their efforts to heal than resigned patients who give up."

The return home was done in a heavy silence. She sat down at the table and served herself tea using her magic wand. 

"You managed to lean on your leg," Charlie tried to comfort her. "That's progress..."

"Barely a third of my weight, one second at a time!" spat out the witch with applause. "Congratulations! "

"You did the exercise at the end of the day, you pushed too hard and your leg was tired," he said, pulling out a kitchen knife, cutting board and vegetables.

"Let's not talk about it any more, shall we? Can I help you prepare dinner?" 

"No... Rest."

Frustrated, the witch grumbled. She was useless, unable to stand upright, and not even good at peeling potatoes! She got up, grabbed her crutches to get to the couch and read her mail. Anthea received daily reports from her subordinates, whom she directed from a distance. She had even welcomed some of them concerning situations requiring an immediate and direct exchange. Her eyes fell on an envelope addressed to Charlie. 

"What was it?"

"An invitation to attend the third round of the Three Wizards Tournament at the end of June, he said bluntly before hesitating. Do you want to go? It might take our minds off it. And I could introduce you to Harry Potter, we didn't have time last time..."

Anthea shook her head negatively. 

"Um... I prefer to devote myself to my rehabilitation and... Um... I don't want to be shown off like that."

Charlie's face is getting darker. Since they had been at Vlad's, Anthea refused all outings that were not linked to necessity. This aspect worried him, although he didn't know how to approach it. 

"But go ahead, you, if you feel like it," continued the witch, seeing her face discomfited. 

"No, I'll write to Bill that I can't free myself," he said, peeling a carrot. 

"Go ahead, if you feel like it... If not, you'll blame me. You only have to take Fanny with you... she'd be delighted."

Charlie raised a circumspect eyebrow. 

"Are you jealous? "

"Why should I be jealous when you show off with your tied hands and your simagrious antics? That you joked at my expense to make your interesting in front of her? By the way, hitting someone who is already kneeling on the ground, you can be proud! Ah, I forgot! Why would I be jealous when you didn't even introduce me as your girlfriend and she has two legs that hold her up?"

"Anthea! I have a past with Fanny because she attended my rehabilitation and she could temporarily give me the illusion of having YOU! I never hid it from you and you never had a problem with that! And just now, it was an unconscious anchoring gesture. A door handle would have had the same effect." 

"Why didn't you grab the door handle, then? There was one on your left!"

"Please, stop it! Everybody here knows what you mean to me," he said as he stood up to hug her. 

Anthea's anger had subsided but she didn't feel any better. Finally, she went towards her best enemy: the stairs. Charlie carried her upstairs and was surprised not to hear the traditional protests. It was harmless, but the fact that she accepted his help without reluctance was an indicator. Anthea was not well. 

And to tell the truth, neither was he.  
Most of his nights were haunted by nightmares about Anthea's fight, which ended in her death in a bloodbath. In these parades of images, he was struck down by immeasurable grief that even the dragons could not dispel. 

He feared that he was addicted to a palliative such as the Sleep Potion. So Charlie refrained from using it. The redhead knew what he needed. He needed time for himself, to step back, to analyse the events and the ambivalence of his feelings. Usually, when he was bothered, Charlie would go alone to the mountains to observe the aerial convolutions of the young dragons as others meditate while observing the clouds. But between his work and his constant presence with Anthea, he had not been able to give himself that much-needed respite. 

But Charlie had no right to complain. How could he? Anthea had almost died, she was crippled and was bearing her situation valiantly, with no way out. With a fierce will, she was fighting to get back what she had lost. So yes, Anthea was on a hair trigger, animated by a deep revolt which served as fuel to regain her autonomy. But her courage forced the admiration of the dragonologist, who felt weak in comparison, haunted by the trauma of having had to save her. Under normal circumstances, he would probably have confided in her what was on his heart, but he refused to be a burden on her already heavy shoulders. So Charlie had to be strong for both of them.

Xxxx❤xxx❤xxx❤xxxX

Following Imamu's injunctions, Anthea put her foot down more and more, helped by her crutches. She didn't lean on it for long but did so repeatedly. But today, the witch sensed a bad day for her leg. First of all, the first time she had put her foot on the ground when she got out of bed, her limb was sore from the previous day's efforts combined with the lack of stretching that it pulled her.

Even so, she had to cope with getting out of the shower, which was always tricky because of the risk of slipping. As she got out of the shower, she grabbed a crutch to lean on. The crutch slipped on the wet floor and dragged her into a fall, which she tried to stop by holding on to the shower curtain, which gave way under her weight. In the end, Anthea landed hard on the tile floor in a jumble of limbs, crutches and shower curtains. Luckily, she had managed to spare her injured leg. 

The hubbub alerted Charlie, whose worried face appeared in the bathroom doorway. 

"No! I don't want your help!"

The man stepped forward before a look of fury immobilised him. 

"I said "No"! Come help me and I'll turn your head into a pumpkin !!!"

Charlie folded his arms across his chest with a defiant look on his face. Without a wand, it would be difficult. It was clear to Anthea that the dragonologist was only waiting for one thing: For her to change her mind and ask for his helping. 

"You really are one of the most stubborn people I know," said Charlie as he watched her slide on her buttocks towards the sink to grab the edge of it and pull herself up. 

"And it's the one who persisted for seventeen years before reaching his goal that blames me for my obstinacy! panted Anthea.

Once standing, her gaze fell on her reflection in the mirror, immediately joined by Charlie's, who wrapped an arm around her waist. 

"I was strong and independent... Look at me now! No matter how hard I struggle to find what I've lost, I'm useless, I can't even get out of the shower without falling ... I'm nothing anymore."

"No, you're not nothing. You are still you. You should be dead but you're still here! Despite your wound, you still work for Gringotts, you still investigate how to dominate a dragon. You do your rehabilitation exercises every day. You always try to do things by yourself. Even though it annoys me that you don't want my help, you never take the easy way out. Frankly, I admire you. Few people would have your strength of character if they were you."

Anthea's tension eased with his words of consolation and the young woman turned into Charlie's arms and looked for his mouth. The dragonologist kissed her with the tip of his lips before going out. Perplexed, the Spell-breaker sadly watched his departure.

Xxxx❤xxx❤xxx❤xxxX

The couple dined in silence after a day that was tiring for one, frustrating for the other. Only the sound of the cutlery on the plate resonated in the quiet of the main room. A dull tension emanating from the witch added to the atmosphere. This silence became too frequent between them. Anthea didn't like it. It gave her the impression that they were no longer a couple living together, but two distinct entities living side by side. She let Charlie finish his meal before confronting him.

"You've changed," she said as he put his empty glass back on the table. 

"What do you mean?" 

"You are more distant, you don't talk to me about dragons anymore, about your days... I... In fact, you don't talk to me about anything anymore!"

On reflection, the witch should perhaps have blunted the point of blame by specifying that she liked to hear him talk about his dragons. He put so much passion into his stories that Charlie became a living show as soon as he mentioned them. 

"Oh, I just don't want to bore you with my creatures when you have other things to think about. And you don't spend your evenings talking about your days, either."

"But what do you want me to tell you? I spend my days here, except when I'm going to physiotherapy," she protested, before calming down to resume with less emphasis, "this silence takes us away from each other. I don't like what we are becoming."

Charlie sighed. 

"And then you leave the bedroom every night and don't come back until the morning. Why is that?"

This time the redhead flinched and waved his wand to clear the table.

"It's not what you think... I just have trouble sleeping, I go somewhere else so as not to disturb you." 

"Stop lying to me, Charlie!" Anthea replied, banging her hand on the table. "Is it so difficult to live with me that you can't stand me in the same bed as you? It was my leg that was hit, not my head!"

Charlie moaned. He didn't like the way it went down. They had had a few verbal arguments or jousting matches in the past but never before had the situation been so tense and threatening. 

"Since I came back from the hospital weeks ago, you haven't touched me and I can count on the fingers of one hand the times you've just kissed me. The truth is, Charlie, today you’re just like a kid playing doctor with a broken doll!"

"I'm trying to take care of you!" he defended himself. 

The repartee blew it up. 

"I don't need you to take care of me! That's the job of the healers and therapists that YOU have so warmly recommended to me! But I need you to support me, I need you to love me and, damn it, I need you to show it to me more than just carrying me down the stairs!"

"Because you think it's easy? Look at you! You're bitter, vindictive, I feel like I'm in a dragon's nest as soon as we're together. I don't recognise you anymore! Honestly, I'd really like to love you but there are days when you don't make it easy for me because you're so unbearable!"

Anthea turned pale and pulled out her wand. Charlie knew from the pain-filled look she gave him that he had gone too far. Guilt and shame came over him. 

"You'd really like to love me but there are days when I don't make it easy for you because I'm so unbearable?" she repeated in a white voice as if repeating the words made it easier to understand their meaning, before exploding again in a hysterical rage. "But why are you trying to force yourself? Because it's not right to leave a cripple or because you think that saving my life makes you responsible for me? Is that it? Well, Charlie, I'm going to make it easy for you, I RELEASE YOU !"

"What ?”

Completely stunned, the dragonologist watched the personal belongings of Antea levitate into a suitcase under the spell of "Make the trunk".

"Anthea! Wait, please... Stay! Sit down and let's talk. Let me explain..."

She slung her pouch over her shoulder, put her resident's card and her keys on the buffet. 

"What about your rehabilitation?"

"I'm sorry about everything, Charlie. But to see you every day knowing that you only put up with me out of pity is beyond my strength."

As soon as the door slammed on the witch, Charlie's raging frustration exploded in a roar. 

\- BLOODY HELL!!!

Xxxx💔xxx💔xxx💔xxxX

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is it worth continuing to translate this fiction?Did you like it? Did you hate it? Do you have a love letter or a request for stoning in 36 copies? Comments (or ❤️) are made for that!  
> Thank you !


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